ii m ii 



m 



Mwmm 




Class 



/^_a_^^ 



Book ^^^^Lg-^^ 
(rnnm^" /f^^ 



COPYRIGHT DEPOSITS 



COWBOY LYRICS 



COWBOY 
LYRICS 




By 
ROBERT V. CARR 



W. B. CONKEY COMPANY 

Publisheis 
CHICAGO 






(LiriWARV of OU!Sav:-;.o31 
' iwo Oopios rtwwuvK 



COPTRTGHT, 1908, 
BY 

Robert V. Carr 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Dedication 9 

The End of the Trail 11 

RANCH AND RANGE 

The Old Cowboy's Lament 15 

The Irrigator 16 

The Smell of the Sage Brush in the 

Mornin' 17 

Father and Son 19 

Waterloo of Poker Bills 21 

When Dutchy Plays the Mouth Harp 24 

The Bronco Buster 26 

A Cowboy in the City 27 

Roobiyat of Pigin-toed Pete 28 

Doc Pierce's Choice 29 

An Oracle of the Plains 32 

The Widow's Lot 33 

The Chuck Wagon 35 

Branding Pen Gossip 36 

In the Gumbo 37 

Hank Laimer's Kid 38 

Animal Rhymes 39 

The Man of the Ranch 41 

Tamed 42 

Springtime on the Range 44 

Down at Haller's Dancin' 45 

[5] 



Contents 



PAGE 

A Moral-less Tale 47 

Kick of the Ranch Hand 48 

A Fragment 50 

Baldy Joe's Simple Rhyme 51 

A Coarse Lack of Appreciation 53 

Cowboy's Salvation Song 54 

The Boys are Comin' to Town 56 

A Sunshine Song 57 

The Would-be Cowpuncher 58 

Jim Davis and the Bicycle Man 59 

Jed Williams 60 

The Nifty Cowpuncher 63 

The Cowboy and the Stork 64 

Ranch Lullaby 65 

A Tribute to the Doctor 66 

To a Cowboy Poet 67 

Post Mortum Politeness 68 

Jawin' Jane 69 

A Cowboy on Religion 70 

The Paper Man 72 

Lem Scobey's Opinion 74 

Ballade of Miss Susan O'Toole 77 

Advice from the Range 79 

When it's Gettin' Plantin' Time 81 

Spring 82 

Let's Quit Quarrelin' fer Awhile.... 83 

When a Man has INIoney 84 

A Cowboy Fatalist 85 

The Old Cowman 86 

Holoway 87 

A Little Ax to Grind 89 



[6] 



Contents 



PAGE 

A Word from Shorty 91 

Dance, You Punchers, Dance 93 

Doc Pierce's Way 94 

A Light Joke 97 

The Old Cowboy's Complaint 98 

ON THE TRAIL OF LOVE 

That There Girl 103 

Speakin' of Her Eyes 104 

Them Heap Big Thoughts 105 

That Scrub.... 106 

She Writes a Note •• 107 

Her Hands 108 

Confidential 109 

To Dance with Her 110 

Speakin' of Arms HI 

The Tryst 112 

Jes' A-foolin' 114 

Real Affection 115 

A Cowboy's Resolution 116 

Bashfulness 117 

Trail Song 118 

An' a Two-step's What They Play.. 119 

Partiality 120 

A Romance of the Range 121 

An Ode to the Slow Horse 123 

True Love 125 

Time's Heavy Hand 127 

Plato Disputed 129 

When She Goes to Get the Mail 130 

The Princess of Desire 132 

[7] 



Coittents 



PAGE 

The Man You Couldn't Get 140 

Sary 142 

A Lothario of the Range 143 

Boy, Will You Care? 145 

WHERE THE CHINOOK BLOWS 

Green Prairies 151 

The Ranch House 152 

The Spring Roundup 153 

The Camp's Asleep 154 

Twilight on the Range 155 

The Crocus 156 

Tiger Lilies 157 

Sage Brush 158 

The Bad Lands 159 

The Rattlesnake 160 

The Buttes 161 

Prairie Wolves 162 

The Winds of the West 163 

ON THE TRAIL OF YESTERDAY 

Onjinjintka 169 

The Gun Fight 172 

Love and Death 174 

The Western Trail 175 

To a Buffalo Skull 176 

At the Grave of a Border Cavalier. . . 177 

The Doom of the Weak 178 

The Night Stampede 179 

The Circle 180 

In Passing 181 

Dear Little Fire 182 

[8] 



DEDICATION 



He spoke of his home country like a man 
talkin' 'bout an old friend — Lem Scobey. 

To you, old pard, a hearty ''How." Thou 
knowest I have not forgotten. Thou know- 
est that some day I will be v/ith you, and, 
as of yore, we will ride through the rain of 
a summer's day, or, in the keen October, 
feel the wind of the western mountains in 
our faces. Perhaps, it will be a strange 
range, and we will have to cross the Great 
Divide before we reach the "Home Ranch," 
but believe me, boy, I'll be there — I'll be 
there. And, when we meet, you will say 
unto me, quaintly and with the light of a 
great happiness in your face: "You miser- 
able son-of-a-gun, I'm tickled to death to 
see you." After which you will strike me 
rudely on the shoulder and call me many 
strange names. Then your bed will be my 
bed, your chuck my chuck and your tobacco 
my tobacco. R. V. C. 

Chicago, 1908. 



[9] 



THE END OF THE TRAIL 

'Tween the old time and the new, 
I have sung heart-songs of you — 
You, lean stranger to all fear. 
Careless border cavalier. 

Now, old pard, that you are gone, 
And the gray and cheerless dawn 
Of a day called Progress comes. 
And the throaty engine hums 
Down the trail where you and I 
Made our camps and watched the sky 
Drop its crimson sunset bars 
To a bunch of mav'rick stars — 
Then, oh, then, I cry aloud 
Curses on the white-faced crowd, 
On the heights of stone and wood. 
Standing where our line camps stood; 
On the jangle of the street, 
And each pale worn face I meet. 

On the coyote ways of men — 
Sharp of fang beyond our ken — 
Snapping o'er a brother's bones 
For a pile of yellow stones. 
Did we seek for gold or fame} 
No, we played a careless game; 

[11] 



And on plunging ponies we 
Shouted back in mocking glee, 
When in town tJte black gun spoke 
Thro' a smiling wreath of smoke. 

Thus I dream and long and fret, 
For my heart will not forget — 
Not forget those old, red days 
Of the trail — its careless ways; 
Not forget — you know the sign — 
Answer me, oh, pard of mine. 



[12] 



RANCH AND RANGE 



RANCH AND RANGE 



THE OLD COWBOY'S LAMENT 

The range's filled up with farmers an' there's 
fences ev'rywhere, 
A painted house 'most ev'ry quarter mile; 
They's raisin' blooded cattle an' plantin' sort- 
ed seed, 
An' puttin' on a painful lot o' style. 

There hain't no grass to speak of an' the water 
holes are gone, 
The wire of the farmer holds them tight; 
There's little use to law 'em an' little use to 
kick, 
An' mighty sight less use there is to fight. 

There's them coughin' separaters an' their 
dirty, dusty crews. 
An' wagons runnin' over with the grain; 
With smoke a-driftin' upward like a hearse 
plume in the air, 
The story of its shadow sure is plain. 

The wolves have left the country an' the long- 
horns are no more, 
An' all the game worth shootin' at is gone; 
An' it's time fer me to f oiler, 'cause I'm only 
in the way, 
An! I'd better be a-movin' — movin' on. 

[15] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



THE IRRIGATOR 

Was ridin' dov/n a-past his place, 

An' then I thinks I'll 'low 
To sort o' pass the time o' day 

An' speak a friendly "how." 

He's mussin' 'round there in the mud, 

A little dam he's got; 
He 'lows to make a cacti flat 

Into a garden spot. 

I says to him the land's no good, 

Fer farmin' she don't win, 
But all he does is slop around 

An' kind o' funny grin. 

I says the land's jes' useful fer 
Some cows to raise an' range, 

But he jes' grins an' hollers back, 
"There's goin' to be a change." 

He's mussin' 'round there in the mud, 

A little dam he's got; 
He 'lows to make a cacti fiat 

Into a garden spot. 



[16] 



Ranch and Range 



THE SMELL OF THE SAGE BRUSH IN 
THE MORNIN' 

Oh, the old, red sun is risin* an' the air is 
clean an' fine, 
With jes' a little chill that tingles thro' 
An' starts your thoughts to millin' that the 
fire o' the cook 
Was made jes' sort o' 'specially fer you. 
But what jes' makes me glad I simply am 
alive, 
My very heart with kindness sweet adornin', 
Is that keen an' bracin' scent that drifts 
across the flats, 
The smell of the sage brush in the mornin'. 

Have traveled many trails in this camp you 
call the world. 
An' lived a life as rough as rough could be; 
Am jes' a plain, old puncher with all a punch- 
er's faults, 
But still there's things that allers come to 
me 
At that there time o' wakin'; they be thoughts 
so sweet an' fine, 
Which no artist or no poet could go scornin'. 
When I catch that keen, clean scent that 
drifts across the flats. 
The smell of the sage brush in the mornin'. 



[17] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



When I cross the Great Divide an' my outfit 
will no more 
Know me around its wagons or its fires; 
I would jes' like to say 'fore I ups an' drifts 
away, 
There's simply jes' one thing my heart 
desires: 
Put me where the sun comes up to ride the 
western range, 
An' all the land with gladness fine adornin', 
So my ghost can sort o' come an' sense that 
sweet perfume, 
The smell of the sage brush in the mornin'. 



[18] 



Ranch and Range 



FATHER AND SON 

{Poetic Contribution to the Lariet Lyre) 

His tough old dad was wont to drive 

Thro' here in days of old 
A freight outfit and by its side 

He walked and cussed, we're told. 
But now his son, all minus brains, 

Goes chug-chug down the street; 
He owns an auto, dontcherknow. 

And thinks he's IT complete. 

The old man used to think it sport 

To fight and paw around, 
And have the bodies of his foes 

All prostrate on the ground; 
But mention fight to Willie dear, 

He'd "scweam" for help, you know, 
And if a tree was standing near. 

He'd up it quickly go. 

The old man used to think it fine 

To grab a flap- jack and 
To feed his face with nothing but 

The fingers on his hand. 
Now WilHe nibbles Bran-o-food, 

Quite pretty and quite sweet, 
And has a clean napkin, you know. 

Whene'er he starts to eat. 



[19] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



The old man used to frequent drink 

Of liquid lightning that 
Would make him see an elephant 

A-roosting on his hat. 
Now Willie takes a soda and 

It overcomes his brain; 
The soda has an easy job 

Is also very plain. 

The old man used to wear his shirt 

For comfort, not for fit, 
And many m^onths would pass away 

Before he would shed it. 
Now Willie dons a frilled concern, 

And changes every morn, 
And wears a cuff around his neck 

His paw would laugh to scorn. 

And thus you'll note the difference 

'Tween Willie and his dad; 
It is the truth, altho' 'twould make 

'Most anyone feel sad; 
For WiUie's parent was a man, 

Tho' rough and tough and rude; 
But Willie is that aching void. 

The sappy, modern dude. 



[20] 



Ranch and Range 



WATERLOO OF POKER BILLS 

{A Poetic Effort Recently Appearing in the 
Chaste Lariet Lyre) 

Oh, he hailed from the Hills, Black Hills, 

Black Hills, 
And he went by the name of Bills — just Bills, 
Of the head that is swelled without more 

words, 
We'll say he'd the same to throw to the birds; 
He thought that of poker there vras no turn 
That he had ever omitted to learn, 
For he'd beat 'em all in the blue Black Hills, 
And he longed for gore, did Bills — did Bills. 

And so into Denver town went he 
With a ripe, round wad of currency 
In tens and twenties and the bigger kind — 
'Twould make a national bank go blind, 
Or Morgan pale or the treasury 
Of Uncle Sam know misery — 
But Bills — just Bills, that was his name — 
Just simply said, "I want a game; 
Is there a man around this camp 
Who knows a flush from a coal oil lamp ? 
Come on, I'm from the Hills — Black Hills, 
An' my name in full is Poker Bills. 
An* I'm here to skin this coyote town 
'Til you pull your freight or all throw down. 
My name is Bills — you've heerd of Bills, 
From the rocky caves of the blue Black 
Hills— 

[21] 



Cozvboy Lxrics 



An' I'm here fer blood, red blood, red blood, 
An' the man who plays me, his name is 
MUD.". 

As he finished speaking a sad-eyed chap, 

With a lip a-droop like a pocket flap, 

Stepped forward and said, said he: 

"I'll go you if I lose, by gee!" 

And he throwed a wad that made the chills 

Chase up the back of Old Man Bills. 

Well, they played and the sad-eyed duck 
Seemed loaded down with golden luck; 
But he handled the pasteboards awkwardly, 
'Til a sand-hill crane could plainly see 
He didn't know how, and Poker Bills 
Just smiled a bit as he drew for "fills." 
But darn it all, the sad-eyed duck 
Held onto his dog-gone, blame fool luck; 
And he horned Old Bills for all his pile, 
And he did it all in a quiet style, 
And sweet and kind and pleasantly, 
'Til Bills had to grin, did he— did he. 

When Bills had soaked his coat and vest. 
His watch and chain and all the rest. 
He gave a gasp and he said, said he, 
"Say, Mister Man, who might you be?" 
"Oh, I hain't much," rephed Sad Eyes, 
"An' Lightnin' Lige is 'bout my size, 
An' this here is 
My chosen biz. 

[22] 



Ranch and Range 



An' let me say, my Black Hills friend, 
Whichever way your tracks may wend, 
You'll find this statement mighty true — 
There's allers someone as smart as you; 
There's allers someone whose head to yours 
Is like the sky to a scene indoors.'! 

And he shoved o'er a "V," 

Did he — did he, 

That Bills might eat sub-se-qu-ent-ly. 

L'ENVOI 

And Bills— Old Bills— Old Poker Bills, 

Returned in a box car to the Hills, 

With his mind made up that to play a game 

'Tis always best to know the same. 

"To know it well," said Poker Bills, 

The champion of the blue Black Hills, 

"An' not allow your mind to track 

That the whole world is an easy pack, 

Or 'cause you skinned the home-folks that 

You can't get fried fer all your fat 

Whene'er by chance you sadly roam 

Away from home, sweet home, sweet home." 



[23] 



Coivhoy Lyrics 



WHEN DUTCHY PLAYS THE MOUTH 
HARP 

When Dutchy plays the moulh haq), ev'ry 

puncher gathers 'round 
To help on with the music by a-stompin' on 

the ground; 
An' the cook he throws a shuffle an' the night 

hawk pats his hand, 
When Dutchy plays the mouth harp in a 
way to beat the band: 
Oh, my girl she has a turned-up nose, 
A turned-up nose, a turned-up nose, 
Wella, wella, wella, I suppose 
That she can't help that turned-up nose. 

When Dutchy plays the mouth harp an' we've 

cached our chuck away, 
An' ev'ryone a-havin' fun an' feehn' mighty 

gay. 
There's nothin' we likes better than to lend a 

helpin' hand, 
When Dutchy plays the mouth harp in a way 
to beat the band: 
Oh, my girl has got a pinto face, 
A pinto face, a pinto face, 
Wella, wella, wella, who did place 
Them freckles on her little face ? 

[24] 



Ranch and Ran^e 



When Dutchy plays the mouth harp— does 

a cake walk something fine — 
'Tis then us old cowpunchers come a-siftin' 

down the line 
A-swingin' an' a-shuf-fel'in' an' pattin' o' the 

hand, 
When Dutchy plays the mouth harp in a way 
to beat the band : 
Oh, my gi^l she wears a number nine, 
A number nine, a number nine, 
Wella, wella, wella, it's a sign, 
She might as well be wearin' mine. 



25] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



THE BRONCO BUSTER 

You rough-necks think it plenty fun 
To set up there an' josh an' run 
Your talk-machines an' watch me take 
This here old coffin-head to break. 

"Stay with him, fan him!" What you say? 
"Pull leather?" Nix; I'm here to stay; 
No bronk that ever lived or growed, 
This prairie chicken ever throwed. 

(It hain't because I hate this hoss, 
It's jes' because I will be boss; 
I'll make him know an' not ferget, 
That I am allers boss, you bet!) 

See that! he's gentlin' down an' he 

Tomorrow will jes' foller me 

An' let me scratch his head an' cheek, 

A lamb he'll beat fer bein' meek. 
Vv 

Oh, laff, you gobblers, have your fun, 
But when with this here job I'm done, 
I'll show you would-be's this bronk change. 
An' lead the best hoss on the range. 



[26] 



Ranch and Range 



A COWBOY IN THE CITY 

Hain't much difference, as I see, 
'Tween the city man an' me; 
He says a canon or divide. 
Or lonesomeness o' prairie wide 
Jes' makes him feel as if the earth 
Was utterly dee-void of mirth. 

Whilst here I stand an' watch the herd 
A-driftin' by, none say a word 
To me, or lift a friendly hand, 
That I might smile an' understand. 

It is a law no man can change — 
Each hoss unto his chosen range; 
Jes' so, he wants the crowd, the noise, 
I wants the prairie an' the boys 
A-stringin' out Hke wild geese fly 
When spring roundup's a-passin' by. 



[27] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



ROOBIYAT OF PIGIN-TOED PETE 

(A Fragment from the Files of the Lariet Lyre) 

I 

Hain't Life queer? To me she seems 
Jes' like a string of locoed dreams 
That foUer trails that lead nowhere, 
An' so I says, "Don't fuss or cry or care." 

II 

All happiness is but passin'; 'tennyrate, 
Such be the crool words o' Fate; 
You meets it fer a minit by the trail, 
Then some one ties a tin can to its tail. 

Ill 

What crave I ? 'Tain't nothin' much — 
A flap-jack an' a jug o' such 
Nose-paint as them godlets swig, perchance, 
An' you beside me at a country dance. 



[28] 



Ranch and Range 



DOC PIERCE'S CHOICE 

My friend, Doc Pierce — well, Doc an' me 
Set in the hotel, an' there be 
An orchestray a-playin' of 
Some highfalootin' dream o' love. 
Says Doc: "That's music, I suppose — 
An Injun thinks a hat is clothes — 
But shucks! it hain't the kind that stays 
An' makes \^ou think o' other days; 
An' makes you go to feelin' sad 
B'cause you can't help feelin' glad; 
An' makes you go to feelin' glad 
B'cause you can't help feelin' sad. 

"Now-days real music they don't know, 
These long-haired dudelets with the bow, 
A-pawin' an' a-twistin' 'round, 
Be jes' emittin' of a sound. 
Their souls don't talk thro' them there strings, 
They hain't got folks to dreamin' things — 
I say these fancy fiddlers, now, 
O' makin' music don't know how! 

"One time I trails," Doc Pierce goes on, 
"Up from the South, out West I'm gone, 
An' drifts around from camp to camp, 
Until one night old Nature's stamp 
Falls on my heart — an' I, well, I 
Am that homesick I want to die. 



[29] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



"I sees a place an' wanders in 
To watch the games an' hear the tin 
A-changin' hands, an' likewise see 
If any one on earth knows me. 
About that time a kid drifts in 
A-totin' of a violin — 
A fiddle, sure, it was his game 
To drift around an' play the same. 

"Talk o' makin' dumb things speak! 
You ought to see that there boy's cheek 
Lay lovin'-like on that noise-box, 
Whilst on his heels he stands an' rocks, 
An' lets his soul sift down them strings 
An' tell you all the sweetest things 
You ever heerd of in your life, 
From courtin' down to mortal strife. 

"An' when he lets her die away, 

I rise up here an' beg to say 

It seemed the world got dark an' cold, 

Like when you know you're get l in' old. 

An' then I says to him right then, 

'Say, son, I antes up a ten 

If you'll jes' give my heart a treat — 

Play "Sunny Southern Skies'- complete.' 

"The kid he nods, then slams his chin 
Up close to that old violin, 
An' draws the bow — he knew his job — 
An' then she starts to cry an' sob; 
An' underneadst the cryin' seems 

[30] 



Ranch and Range 



To run a millyun little streams 
Of joy an' happiness an' smiles — 
An' then, well, then, talk o' the trials! 

"I swallers an' I swallers more, 
An' stands there blinkin' at the floor; 
An' then thro' misty eyes I sees 
A tough old rooster try to sneeze, 
Pertendin' like he had a cold — 
Thinks I, 'Old boy, that game is old;' 
An' then I pulls my hat cl'ar down 
An' passes out an' drifts uptown. 
With that dear song a-ha'ntin' me 
Jes' like a ghost o' melody. 

" ' 'Neath Sunny Southern Skies,' you bet! 
There hain't a piece been written yet 
An' played as that there kid played it 
An' made a heart-shot, center hit. 

"That's why this high-flung music goes 
Right past my ears an' never throws 
One shiver in my skelp — fer why? 
B'cause the player's heart is dry. 
He don't play up the soul-game strong. 
Or give some heartache to his song; 
That's why I say my choice I'll throw 
Strong fer that piece played years ago 
Out in a camp where homesick hearts 
Give to the tears some easy starts, 
An' that there kid jes' closed his eyes 
An' led me back 'neath southern skies.'- 

[31] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



AN ORACLE OF THE PLAINS 

A bow-legged cowboy sat rolling, one day, 
A cute cigarette in his own nimble way; 
And when he had finished the coffin nail, he 
Delivered this wisdom free gratis to me: 

"What's the use fer to worry, or even to fret, 
Fer the things of the world you never will get ? 
An' likewise she's true that fer me or fer you, 
There's jes' about one or two tricks we can do; 
Be as good as we know an' cut out the bad. 
An' allers be cheerful an' never get mad; 
Fer the frownin' face gathers the wrinkles, 

my friend, 
An' the smilin' one stays like a boy's to the 

end." 

Thus the bow-legged puncher delivered ad- 
vice 

In a style not offensive but studiously nice; 

And then smiling quaintly he winked at the 
sky 

In a way that was childish but wickedly sly. 



[32] 



Ranch and Range 



THE WIDOW'S LOT 

Mis' Pike jes' called — the first time fer 
A month o' Sundays I've seen her — 
She took on scan'luss about me 
A-livin' here alone an' she 
Jes' upped an' said a ranch was not 
A place fer widders, an' she sot 
An' harped on that one string 'til I 
Jes' shut her mouth with tea an' pie. 

Poor William's dead nigh on a year, 
But I can't say I'm pinin' here; 
An' law me ! what's a soul to do, 
What's goin' onto forty-two? 
Fer who'll dispoot a real live man 
Around a ranch is handy, an' 
Jack Plummer says to me last night — 
He jes' stopped in to get a bite 
O' chicken pie — he says, says he: 
"You ain't a day o'er twenty-three." 
But Jack is such a josher that 
He's allers talkin' thro' his hat. 

The other day Bill Howe drove by. 
An' said the cricks were jes' bank high. 
An' he'd a four-hoss load an' he 
Declared he'd leave some truck with me, 
A sack o' flour an' some corn, 
A sack o' sugar which was torn, 

[33] 



CoTvboy Lyrics 



Which Bill jes' vowed would go to waste 
Unless sweet things was to my taste. 

A week ago John Nye drove in — 

His heart is big if he is thin — 

He said he'd butchered an' he thought 

A side o' beef an' bacon ought 

To nohow meet with my re-fuse, 

Since he had more than he could use. 

An' there's Hank Dalley, ev'ry day 
He sort o' drops in that-o-way, 
To see if there's a chore to do, 
An' then jes' stays the whole day thro'; 
An' jes' flares up when I talk "pay," 
Fer Hank's right touchy, an' he'll say: 
"I haven't got a thing to do. 
It's exercise to work fer you.'! 

An' so between them all, 3"ou see, 
There's lots that's worser off than me; 
The ranch is clear, an' eggs an' truck 
Bring prices high, an' then I've luck 
With all my stock, that's bound to grow — 
But yet there's one thing which I know, 
An' might as well say to your face, 
A man's most handy 'round a place; 
But William's gone an' there's no more — 
Land sakes ! There's Dalley at the door! 



[34] 



Ranch and Range 



THE CHUCK WAGON 

Cowpuncher's cafay, 
It is that-o-way, 
An' we strike it kerslam 'bout three times 
a day; 
When cook yells, "Come get it!" 
He don't have to plead, 
"Hi yipl all you logies, come gather your 
feed!"- 



[35] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



BRANDING PEN GOSSIP 

Lem Scobey says to me one time, 

"I wouldn't give a meas'ly dime 

Fer any man what throws a calf, 

An' gives that braggin' sort o' laff 

As if he thought there ought to rest 

A leather medal on his breast, 

B'cause he's got more stren'th than branes- 

Such swell-head dubs fill me with panes. ' ' 

Lem says, "I love a good cowpunch 

What does his work an' does not lunch 

On his conceit 'most all the while 

He's showin' off his muscle's style. 

'"Tennyrate," Lem adds to me. 

As we grabs one, "there ought to be 

A law agin such sort o' men 

A-ras'lin' in a brandin' pen; 

I'd like to see such would-be's fired, 

They surely makes me mighty tired." 



[36] 



Ranch and Range 



IN THE GUMBO 

No use to kick, no use to swear, 
Jes' go in camp an' settle there; 
Fer good old patience, this I know, 
Your other name is jes' gumbo. 



[37] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



HANK LAIMER'S KID 

Only youngun on the range, 

Cutest kid what is, 
Got us all upon his string. 

Put us out o' biz. 

Bring him presents from the town, 

Tickles him to death, 
Little cuss jumps up an' down 

.'Til he's out o' breath. 

Calls me "nuncle" an' his maw 

Says he loves me, too; 
Say, if I had one like him, 

Don't know what I'd do. 

Kids are great, I'm here to say. 

Greatest things what is, 
Get to love 'em an' they'll sure 

Put you out o' biz. 

Bring him presents from the town. 

Tickles him to death, 
Little cuss jumps up an' down 

'Til he's out o' breath. 



[38] 



Ranch and Range 



ANIMAL RHYMES 

{Contributed to the Lariet Lyre by Willie Wes- 
tern, Age 10) 

The Coyote 

The coyote he's the smartest one, 

Arithmatick's his choice; 
He Ukes to set up late at nights 

An' multiply his voice. 

The Prairie Dog 

The prairie dog hain't got much sense, 

His manners are a shame; 
But don't find fault with him, b'cause 

His parents are to blame. 

The Indian 

The Injun he's a savage an' 

He likes to eat an' rest ; 
He wears some paint, a look o' scorn, 

An' thinks that he is drest. 

The Bronco 

The bronco likes to roam the wild. 

An' snort an' rip an' tear. 
An' kick a yard o' nothin' from 

The outside of the air. 

[39] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



The Bad Man 

I think a bad man curious, 
He shoots folks in a rage ; 

You never see him anywheres 
Except upon the stage. 

The Cowboy 

The cowboy he's a funny man, 

As funny as can be, 
He smokes a millyun cigarettes 

But won't give one to m.e. 

. The Tenderfoot 

The tenderfoot's the funniest 

Critter o' the plains, 
My paw says they is hooman, 

But they hasn't any branes. 

The Girl 

The girl is nice to look at. 
An' purty as the deuce, 

But my, she knows so little, 
She's hardly any use. 

The Porcupine 

The porkupine is grate on jokes. 
He's a yoomerist like me; 

'Most ev'rything he says is sharp 
An' pinted as can be. 



[40] 



Ranch and Range 



THE MAN OF THE RANCH 

My dad he's gone an' mammy sez, 

I be the man eroun' this place; 
But funny way she sez it, coz 

The tears des runned all down her face. 
They corned one day an' took my dad, 

An' 'n they upped an' driv away. 
"A-rusthn' stock — ten years fer you," 

Is what I heerd one man des say. 

I be the man eroun' this ranch, 

But, oh, last night my mammy cried, 
'N loved me Uke I wuz a kid, 

'N helt me right up to her side. 
She sez it all is fer the best, 

An' 'at the Lord will sure pervide, 
'N after while I goes to sleep, 

Des snuggled up to mammy's side. 

I be the man eroun' this ranch. 

My mammy sez so, an' you see, 
They dassent hurt her coz I guess 

They know that she belongs to me. 
But what fer duz she cry an' cry. 

An' why don't no one visit us? 
My dad he's gone an' I'm boss now, 

What be the use o' all this fuss? 



[41] 



Cozvho\ Lyrics 



TAMED 

Jim Shivers was the baddest man in the camp, 

b' jingo, 
Not a feller dast to give him a bit o' lingo; 
Up an' shoot? Well, I should say, an' he 

never tarried 
In his reckulous career 'til he went an' 

married. 
Now when Jim do say a word or do a bit o' 

tellin'. 
Or gets his old time dander up an' has a fit 

o' yellin'. 
His wife jes' says: 

"You great big clown ! 

You jes' shut up an' you jes' set down !" — 

An Jim does both. 

He's meek as any lamb you'd see, meekest 

sort o' critter. 
Any boy around the camp run him to a 

fritter; 
Never has a word to say, never does no gun- 

nin', 
Any shootin' goin' on all he does is runnin'. 
Jes' b'cause he's got a wife not afeerd to cross 

him, 
An' 'twould do you good to see that there 

woman boss him, 



[42] 



Ranch and Range 



An' hear her say : 

"You great big clown! 

You jes' shut up an' you jes' set 
down!" — 
An' Jim does both. 



[43] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



SPRINGTIME ON THE RANGE 

Oh, it's gettin' onto spring, an' so let us up 

an' sing 

Of the greenin' of the prairies in the sun, 

An' the comin' of the birds an' the fat'nin' 

of the herds — 

Start a tunin' up your voices ev'ry one. 

Oh, my! see the smihn' sky, winter's gettin' 
ready fer to shde. 

Air's some warmer, hain't it, say? 

Chinook, yes, an' breath o' May, 
An' crocuses along the Big Divide. 

Soon a feller hears an' sees blackbirds millin' 

in the trees. 

Soon the roses will bebloomin' fer the May. 

Oh, it's comin' — don't you feel that it's 

gettin' time to peel 

All your winter ways an' sort o' sweetly say : 

Oh, my! see the smilin' sky, winter's gettin' 
ready fer to slide, 

Air's some warmer, hain't it, say? 

Chinook, yes, an' breath o' May, 
An' crocuses along the Big Divide. 



[44] 



Ranch and Range 



DOWN AT HALLER'S DANCIN' 

They's tunin' up the orchestray down at old 

Bill Haller's, 
He's the feller that they claim jes' beats all 

the callers 
In the country 'round fer miles — old bow- 
legged feller ; 
Say, you ought to hear that cuss jes' get up 
an' beller: 
Balance all an' do-see-do, 
Rope her, tie her, let her go, 
Mill her 'round an' kiss her there, 
Prom'nade all, you know where. 

Choose your partners! H-m-m-m ! well, yes, 

grab the next one after, 
'Twont harm nothin' if you do shake the roof 

with lafter; 
Fer she's joy-time, whoop-hi-ree ! Come 

around a-prancin'. 
Guess there's nothin' like the time down at 
Haller's dancin'. 
She's your true love, you can bet. 
There's no dead ones in that set ! 
Lope her 'round an' squeeze her there, 
Prom'nade all, you know where. 

Hear them fiddles! Hain't they great! Suff'- 

rin' Land o' Lawdy! 
Ragtime, night time, high time, too, come 

a-steppin' gawdy. 



[45] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



Come a-sailin' down the line, whoop-a-lorum ! 

let her, 
Seems to me there's nothin' that makes a 
man feel better. 
Mornin' is a mile away, 
Never 'spect to hit the hay, 
She's a-waitin', wake up there! 
Prom'nade all, you know where. 

Hear old Haller, hear him now, all above the 

funnin', 
Jes' a-laffin', callin,'. too, keeps the thing a- 

runnin', 
Round me up an' turn me loose! Let me go 

a-prancin'. 
All I wants is jes' to yell down at Haller's 
dancin'. 
If you love her tell her so, 
Rope her, brand her, let her go, 
Round her up an' hold her there, 
Prom'nade all, you know where. 



[46] 



Ranch and Range 



A MORAL-LESS TALE 

{Poetic Contribution to the Lariet Lyre) 

She was a perfect lady 
And she rode the northern range, 
Being courted by a creature who was careful 
of his change ; 
When he'd have to spend a dollar 
He would raise a weird, wild "holler,". 
And grumble in a manner both uncouth and 
very strange. 

But this wise and perfect lady 
Who rode the northern range 
Had a mind in no way feeble or afflicted with 
the mange; 
So she sued for breach of promise 
This one Doubting Tightwad Thomas, 
And to pay her and the lawyers cost him 
cattle, ranch and range. 

There's no moral to this story 
Otherwise than it is true, 
Ladies now from east to westward seem to 
know a thing or two; 
Thus it is not talking madly 
When we observe quite gladly. 
Our ladies trot as sv/iftly as the best of them 
can do, 



[47] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



KICK OF THE RANCH HAND 

Dern my hide, I feel so lazy, 
Feel so stretchy, feel so dazy, 
An' the old, red day is dawnin'. 
An' I'm layin' here an' yawnin', 
Thinkin' if I had a dollar. 
Like to see the man who'd holler, 
Or e'en dare to whisp'rin' say : 
"Get up, Jim, don't sleep all day." 

What man is there in the land 

Has the trubbles of a hand ? 

Go to bed at dark an' more, 

You gets up at half -past four; 

An' you pail 'bout forty-six 

Gosh -blamed cow-brutes, an' the tricks 

That they play an' put on you 

Jes' would make an angel stew. 

Honestly, I get so mad 
That sometimes I wish I had 
Power to jes' make one swipe. 
An' each kickin' cow-brute wipe 
Off this whirlin', jiggy earth, 
Fer 'twould give me scads o' mirth — 
Honestly, I know it would 
Do me jes' a sight o'. good, 

[48] 



Ranch and Range 



An' there's pigs to slop an' feed ; 
Give the hosses what they need; 
See the chickens all are fed, 
An' the pigins overhead. 
An' there's water fer to bring 
From that singy-songy spring; 
An' there's wood to chop — an' all 
This is done 'fore breakfast call. 

Then you hook the plow team on, 
An' go straggUn' thro' the dawn; 
Work an' work an' sweat all day, 
Work an' work an' work away. 
Dern my hide, I feel so lazy. 
Feel so stretchy, feel so dazy, 
An' the old, red day is dawnin', 
An' I'm layin' here an' ya-a-a-aw-nin' 



[49] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



A FRAGMENT • 

(From the Facile Pen of the Editor of the 
Lariet Lyre) 

I never thunk a thought as yet, 

Some shinin' wisdom in a chunk, 
But what I finds some other yap 

That same old dreary thought had thunk. 
Some other yap in other days 

His care-worn intelleck had caught 
Upon the nail of hard luck then, 

An' jes' ripped out that same old thought. 
That same old thought — the one I thunk 

Was mine — an' by it set a store. 
Until I finds it had been sprung 

A thousand years or so before. 



[50] 



Ranch and Range 



BALDY JOE'S SIMPLE RHYME 

Oh, I know an old cowpuncher, an' they call 

him Baldy Joe, 
B'cause his hair is something which is absent, 

don't you know; 
An' he sits up in the saddle, sort o' lives there 

all the time. 
An' a-hummin' an' a-hummin' this here sim- 
ple little rhyme: 
There hain't no sense like a logie fer to set, 
'Cause you think you hain't a-gettin' 

what you think you ought to get. 
So it's quit your jawin',keep a tight rein 

on your lip. 
An' brace yourself an' allers keep 
a-cinchin' up your grip. 

Joe is a queerish critter, he's a mighty funny 

man; 
Never has a speck of trtibble an' you never, 

never can 
Hear him kickin' or complainin', 'cause he's 

happy all the time, 
Jes' a-hummin' that aforesaid an' quite simple 

little rhyme. 

[51] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



Been a-thinkin' an' a-thinkin' if the world 

was fashioned so, 
She'd tall}^ with the hummin' of that happy 

feller Joe; 
She'd be a blamed sight better, get some bet- 
ter all the time, 
'Cause there's a heap o' hoss sense in his simple 
little rh3^me: 
There hain't no sense like a logic fer to 

set, 
'Cause you think you hain't a-gettin' 

what you think you ought to get. 
So it's quit your jawin', keep a tight rein 

on your lip. 
An' brace yourself an' allers keep 
a-cinchin' up your grip, 



[62] 



Ranch and Ran^e 



A COARSE LACK OF APPRECIATION 

I'm the sweetest sort o' singer, but 'most 

ev'ry time I sing, 
Some ig'rant man's remarkin', "Who choked 

that calf — poor thing;" 
An' then the boys all leave me an' sadly drift 

away, 
When I sets up a-pealin' this here charmin' 
roundelay: 
Oh, Susan, you're my trewest friend, 
I will not hold your hand, 
I will not tell you of my love. 
You would not understand — 
You would not understa-a-a — 
You would not understa-a-a-a-and. 

I hates to see my friends all leave an' "excuse 

me" never say. 
Shows 'preciation's lackin' of the fine arts 

that -o- way; 
Fer when I sings serprano I cannot help it 

grieve, 
To see each son-of-a-gun get up an' leave — 
so ca'mly leave. 
Oh, Susan, you're my trewest friend, 
I will not hold your hand, 
I will not tell you of my love. 
You would not understand — 
You v/ould not understa-a-a — 
You would not understa-a-a-a— and. 



[53] 



Cozi'boy Lyrics 



COWBOY'S SALVATION SONG 

Oh, it's move along, you dogies, don't be 
driftin' by the way, 

Fer there's goin' to be a roundup an' a-cut- 
tin' out, they say. 

Of all the devil's rangers an' a-movin' at sun- 
rise, 

An' you'd better be preparin' fer a long drive 
to the skies. 

Oh, it's move along, you dogies, don't be drift- 
in' by the way, 

Fer the boss of all the rus'lers is a-comin' 
'round today; 

So you better be a-movin', throw your dust 
right in his eyes. 

An' hit the trail a-flyin' fer the home ranch 
in the skies. 

So it's move along, you dogies, fer the devil 

has in hand 
A bunch of red-hot irons an' he's surely goin' 

to brand 
All his cattle an' some others, an' mighty 

sudden, too. 
So you'd better be a-movin' so he won't be 

brandin' 3^ou. 

[54] 



Ranch and Range 



Oh, it's move along, you dogies, tlio' you have 

the mange o' sin, 
There's a range you're sure to shake it when 

you come a-traiHn' in, 
Where the grass is allers growin' an' the 

water's allers pure, 
So it's sift along, you dogies, 'fore the devil 

brands you sure. 



[55] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



THE BOYS ARE COMIN' TO TOWN 

The boys are comin' to town, whoop la! 

What does the marshal do? 
He's gone an' hid, that's what he did, 

Fer he knows a thing or tv/o — 
Per he knows a thing or two, yip, yip! 

Fer he knows a thing or two. 

/ 

^ The boys are comin' to town, ker bang! 
What does the dogs all do? 
They hits the trail with a canine wail, 

Fer they knows a thing or two — 
Fer they knows a thing or two, ki yi! 
Fer they knows a thing or two. 

The boys are comin' to town. Oh, my! 

What does the old town do? 
She goes to bed while they paint'er red, 

Fer she knows a thing or two— 
Fer she knows a thing or two, wow, wow! 

Fer she knows a thing or two — 



[56] 



Ranch and Range 



A SUNSHINE SONG 

He sets on the side walk from mornin' 'til 
night, 
Singin' an' singin' an' singin', 
"What's the use fer to vv^orry if today is all 
right?" 
Singin' an' singin' an' singin'. 
"Fer we hain't goin' to linger here so very 

long, 
So what yap will say that a feller's dead 

wrong. 
If he turns loose his voice in a joy-laden 
song?" 
Singin' an' singin' an' singin'. 

"It's a cinch when we dies we'll be dead fer 
some time," 
Singin' an* singin' an' singin', 
"So why not enjoy all the things o' this 
clime?" 
Singin' an' singin' an' singin'. 
"Oh, why not jes' shed ev'ry trubble an' all. 
An* camp in the light 'til the dark shadders 

fall? 
She'll be night soon enuff, ies' you hark to 
my call," 
Singin' an' singin' an' singin', 



[57] 



Coivhoy Lyrics 



THE WOULD-BE COWPUNCHER 

It's been out here a half a 3^ear, 

An' thinks that It is bad, 
But when we takes a look at It, 

Our weary hearts feel sad. 

It wears a gun 'most all the time, 
What fer we do not know, 

We asks no questions lest we makes 
Of ignerance a show. 

It uster be a sap-head clerk 
Down in old I-o-way, 
But now It is a ba-a-a-d cowpunch, 
So we have heerd It say. 

We often wonders if It is 

Of any earthly use, 
An' set around an' ask ourselves, 

"Whoever turns that loose?" 

It's been out here a half a year. 
An' thinks that It is bad. 

But when we takes a look at It, 
Our weary hearts feel sad. 



[58] 



Ranch and Range 



JIM DAVIS AND THE BICYCLE MAN 

Jim Davis is an old cowpunch 

(You certainly knows Jim?) 
So listen, boys, an' I will tell 

What happens unto him. 
He's drivin' beef herd into Miles, 

But 'fore he gets there meets 
A feller on a wheel an' then 

That beef herd surely beats 
The record fer the big stampedes — 

An' Jim, I've heerd him say, 
Jes' sets right still fer quite a spell, 

To sort o' think an' — pray. 
Then Jim gets off his bronco bird, 

An' seeks the bike man's life, 
Engagin' him, as poets say, 

In "bitter mortal strife." 
*T does not beat you 'cause you's scared 

Five hundred steers or more, 
'Tis not fer that," says angry James, 

'T dabbles in your gore. 
It is b'cause I hates a fool, 

Weak product o' the town. 
Who's so blamed lazy that he walks — 

Jes' walks a-settin' down." 



[59] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



JED WILLIAMS 

Know Jed Williams? Blamedest man 
You'll ever see or ever can; 
Tears like there's nothin' can disturb 
That critter in his ca'm perturb 
In viewin' things o' this here life, 
With nary hitch or fret or strife; 
Per trubble gives him all the track, 
An' never once does she talk back. 

Jed craves terbacker fearful sight, 

Seems tho' he's got a appertite 

Fer eatin' it — you never seed 

The man could beat him at the weed. 

No matter what or who you be. 

Be you yourself or be you me, 

If old Jed's 'round he's sure to say — 

A-passin' o' the time o' day — 

He'll say: "Fine weather, finest ever saw, 

How's your chewin'? Give us a chaw." 

Was thinkin' now when Jed's first wife 
Unhitched herself from this here life — 
She's raised right here in this old town — 
An' when they lets the coffin down, 

[60] 



Ranch and Range 



Old Jed jes' turned to me an' said — 
He pays no 'tenshun to the dead — 
Says he: "Fine weather, finest ever saw, 
How's your chewin'? Give us a chaw." 

Some day old Jed lays down his hand, 
An' seeks a strange but warmer land, 
Where the range boss is mighty mean, 
An' wears his tail ear-marked between. 
'Spects then old Jed in his ca'm way 
Will size Nick up an' drawlin' say — 
He'll say: "Fine weather, finest ever saw, 
How's your chewin'? Give us «i chaw," 



[61] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



THE NIFTY COWPUNCHER 

Allers wears the finest duds ever you did 

see, 
What he owns the very best simply's got 

to be; 
An' his boots, well, place your bet, they 

take all the tricks. 
Made to order, high o' heel, 'bout a number 

six. 
As fer hat, he's sure there strong, best that 

coin can buy. 
White an' wide o' brim the same, crown a 

little high. 

Chaps, he likes the fancy kind, angorees 
the best. 

Spurs, well, jinglin' dreams! Oh, my! 
finest in the west; 

Gun, don't pack it much these days, han- 
dle's made o' pearl. 

Silver-plated forty-five, pretty as a girl. 

Belt is simply out o' sight, holster jes' the 
same. 

Never counts the cost, that boy, so he's in 
the game. 

[62] 



Ranch and Range 



Saddle, well, that cost a heap, pockets go 
with chaps, 

Fer that outfit on the boards he a hundred 
slaps — 

Hundred plunks it cost him, sure, that be 
the amount. 

But that saddle means his grub an' his 
bank account. 

So he rides across the range, yellin' some- 
what rude, 

Careless, reckless, nifty cuss, reg'ler prairie 
dude, 



[63] 



^ozvboy Lyrics 



THE COWBOY AND THE STORK 

Bill Munson's wife was sick, you sec, 
Old Bill he says that night to me: 
"Go get a doctor on the run," 
An' then I grabs that muckle-dun 
Out-law an' jams him forty mile, 
An' then I gets a gray a while, 
An' leaves him at the lazy T, 
A-thinkin' some mean thoughts o' me. 
An' then I gets a roan an' he 
Was jes' a hoss I loves to see; 
He jes' strings out an' drags her down, 
An' soon we's siftin' into town. 
The Doc drives back an' now old Bill 
T'other day gives me a thrill — 
The blamed old cuss he did, by gee! 
He names that kidlet after me. 



[64] 



Ranch and Range 



RANCH LULLABY 

Baby, won't you go to sleep? 

The dark is on an' your pa's gone, 

Little one, go to sleep; 

Baby, baby, what would you do, 
If a coyote jes' stoled you? 

Dearie, won't you go to sleep? 

Baby, won't you go to sleep? 
The pines do sing like everything. 

Little one, go to sleep; 
Baby, baby, jes' fly away 
Into Dreamland's shinin' day, 

Dearie, won't j'-ou go to sleep? 

Baby, won't you go to sleep? 
Ride to rest on your ma's breast, 

Little one, go to sleep; 

Baby, baby, your little hands 
Wave the trail to Sleepylands, 

Dearie, won't you go to sleep? 



[66] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



A TRIBUTE TO THE DOCTOR 

Oh, here's to the Doc, the good old Doc, 
An' the things he has done fer us, 

An' the miles he has rode thro' the winter 
storms, 
'Thout makin' a bit o' fuss. 

An' here's to the Doc who worked an' 
watched. 
When he knew that old Death was near, 
An' the long, long nights an' the sleep that 
he lost. 
An' the way he ca'med our fear. 

Oh, here's to the Doc that stayed by us. 
We'd ride fer miles to shake his hand, 

Fer the sake o' them days, oh, them early 
days, 
That none but we understand. 



[66] 



Ranch and Range 



TO A COWBOY POET 

He rode a bronk he called Pegas', 

To Homer's some related, 
A boss witb wings to range the clouds, 

In manner plum' elated. 

He likewise packed a instrument, 
He called "the cheerful lyre," 

An' from the same he'd rope a tune, 
An' sing bis heart's desire. 

He never thought o' things mundane, 
No work he cared to foUer, 

An' actoolly be never knew 
The value o' a doller. 

But when be crossed the Great Divide, 
An' to the skies went wingin', 

We found we missed him an' the songs 
That be was allers singin'. 

An' tbo' we cl'ar fergot the place 
Where we the cuss had planted, 

Per years an' years them songs o' his 
Our hearts have sort o' ha'nted. 



[67] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



POST MORTUM POLITENESS 

A cowpunch once shot up the town, 

And after that was done, 
A friend informed him that he'd winged 

A dudelet on the run. 

''You tell the tenderfoot," cried he, 
With large tears in his eyes, 

*'If I have killed the blamed galoot, 
I now apologize." 



[68] 



Ranch and Ran^e 



JAWIN' JANE 

Jawin' Jane gives me a pain, 
She's old Hank Biglow's wife, 

She's there an' over in the game 
Of wordy, mouthy strife. 

We names her '*Jawin' Jane" an' she 

Would kill us if she knew, 
But Hank jes' grins an' looks so much 

Jes' like a Southdown ewe. 

Seems like the world is made jes' so, 
All things to mate jes' right, 

Fer if I'd Jane I'd sure get up 
An' choke her in the night. 

But Hank jes' grins that woolly grin. 

The worst you ever saw. 
Whilst that there female works an' works 

Her never-tirin' jaw. 

Jawin' Jane gives me a pain, 
She's old Hank Biglow's wife. 

She's there an' over in the game 
Of wordy, mouthy strife. 



[69] 



Cowbov Lyrics 



A COWBOY ON RELIGION 

The preacher man sometimes comes out, 
An' in the school house he do spout, 
'Bout "fiery furnace" an' "black sin," 
An' souls he wants to "save an' win;" 
But somehow I don't like the game 
He spreads in manner meek an' tame, 
Fer I has thought my whole life long, 
I pays the bill if I do wrong; 
It may be years an' years until, 
^But jes' the same I pays the bill. 

Now that the bill sure must be paid. 
Be blamed if I am much afraid; 
An' likewise I don't see that prayer 
An' standin' up with pious air, 
Can do away with that there bill, 
'Cause 'til she's paid she surely will 
Stand on the books agin the cuss 
Who had the fun an' raised the fuss; 
Fer sayin', "I am saved;" don't kill 
The hard, cold fact, you owe that bill. 

I know I'm ignerant an' rough, 
An', speakin' truthful, somewhat tough; 
But jes' the same this fact there be, 
There's none to blame exceptin' me; 

[70] 



Ranch and Range 



So this sure puts you on the shelf: 
No one can save you but yourself. 
You plays the game your own sweet way, 
Regardless what the good folks say, 
An' if your hand you fails to fill, 
Why, you jes' smile an' pay the bill. 



[71] 



Cocvboy Lyrics 



THE PAPER MAN 

{A Visit with the Handsome and Popular 
Editor of the Lariet Lyre) 

He has a press he jerks by hand, 

An' Fridays he will take his stand, 

An' let a kid roll on the ink 

To grease the type, an' then he'll think 

It's time to take a smoke, by jing! 

An' then he'll stop an' leave the thing, 

An' grab a corn-cob from somewhere, 

An' with his feet up in the air, 

He'll say, "Well, boys, how's stock an' feed? 

A little snow is what we need — 

Much sickness out your way these times? 

I hear Miss Jones weds Billy Grimes, 

I lets their write-up front page take. 

They sends me chunk o' weddin' cake. 

An' poor old Cribs he upped an' died — 

His 'bituary bucked an' pied — 

But then I sets it up agin, 

A-speakin' of the home he'll win. 

An* all the virtoos that he had, 

Fergettin' nothin' but the bad — 

You wants some papers? sure, you bet! 

Jes' help yourself, they's fresh an' wet — 

No, takin' money is a bribe — 

Unless you figgers to — subscribe — 

[72] 



Ranch and Range 



Oh, many thanks, I allers do 
Take honest joy in seein' you." 
An' then we leaves an' looks back at 
The paper man a-jerkin' that 
Old press, an' singin' cl'ar an' high, 
"We'll all be angels, by an' by." 



[73] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



LEM SCOBEY'S OPINION 

Lem Scobey says to me one day: 
"I'm feelin' tired that-o-way, 
About this wild west guff I reads, 
Them eastern papers locoed screeds. 
In the first place I'm here to tell, 
Real ■v\(estern men don't go an* yell 
To some news-sharp how they has killed 
Whole Injun tribes or how they's spilled 
The blood of forty men or more, 
An' that their reg'ler feed is gore. 

**Real western men don't give a cuss 
Per paper praise nor do they fuss 
An' stand around a-lookin' mad 
An' hopin' someone thinks 'em bad. 
Nor do they gab in hot air free 
Long yarns o' what they uster be. 
The truest men, the kind that stay, 
Be them that has the least to say; 
Such-like are kind an' to the end. 
You'll find them stickin' to a friend. 
The papers don't ne'er hear o' these, 
The mouthy kind is what they sees — 
The kind that need six mules an' all 
To simply pack around their gall. 

[74] 



Ranch and Range 



"Jes' let me tell you of a man- 
None beat his nerve, none ever can— 
Won't give his name, 'cause he would kick; 
But that won't stop me on this trick. 
Call him Dakota, jes' fer fun, 
You'll rope the idee when I'm done: - 
Dakota, small an' sort o' sad, 
An' seems to me the feller had 
Girl-eyes an' freckles an' a smile 
That kept you thinkin' all the while 
That any little kid might tie 
To him, an' that he'd rather die, 
Afore he'd let one hc'pless know 
Of pain or harm — you bet, that's so. 
No bad man 'bout Dakota, tho', 
I can't jes' say he was so slow 
In any sort or kind of fight, 
Except his lips got thin an' white, 
An' after it was done he'd say: 
'I'm sorry, boys,' an' walk away. 
An' it's a fact that right today, 
Dakota, good an' kind an' gray, 
Don't have a word to say to men, 
When on the corner, now an' then. 
Some paper man hogties him fast, 
To tell the world about his past. 

"An' that's the game, real western men 
Be the same now as they was then; 
Don't wear long hair nor buckskin things, 
Don't like the bluff that allers strings 
The paper ducks an' never's stint 

[75] 



Cozi'bov Lyrics 



On 5eein' his full name in print. 
True western men, the kind that stay 
Be them that has the least to say: 
The true heart sort that ne'er discard 
Your friendship or your true regard; 
The kind a feller's free to love — 
The kind the '»vorld hears nothin' of." 



[76] 



Ranch and Ran^^e 



BALLADE OF MISS SUSAN O'TOOLE 

(Found in the Waste Basket of the Lariet Lyre 
— Author Unknown) 

Miss Susan O'Toole hated men with a hate 

Some punchers bear water, you know; 
If one was a-comin' an' she seen him first, 

Right back to her ranch she would go. 
She talked woman's rights an' similar stuff, 

With all o' her fem-i-nine might, 
Per as a gab-artist Miss Susan took all 

The prizes that might be in sight. 
She tells the whole range o' this an' o' that, 
'Til her jaw-agitation wore holes in her 
hat— 

Per Susan O'Toole 
Said she was no fool, 
Ner cared she a rap 
Per no man or yap 
That ever wore chaps, 
Said Susan. 

She said there's a time that surely will 
come, 
When women will have all the say. 
When the last sinful man has give up the 
scrap, 
An' woman — sweet woman — holds sway. 
Then one fatal day a freak drifts along — 
A freak with a string-halted voice, 

[77] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



An' head cl'ar bereft o' the truck known as 
branes, 
An' Susan grabs him as her choice. 
Affection long-smothered jes' breaks the 

crust, 
An' her heart is all his to keep or to bust — 
Fer Susan O'Toole 
Was hit mighty crool, 
An' her piller she wet 
With some tears, you can bet, 
Fer she had it bad, 
Did Susan. 

One day they was spliced an' she treated 

him like 

An' angel jes' minus the wings; 

An' waited on him ev'ry jump in the road, 

An' thinks him the "sweetest o' things." 

Thus Susan O'Toole made Hen-i-ree Jones 

The very best sort of a wife, 
She supports him, loves him, an' happy as 
clams, 
They follers the long trail o' life. 
An' Susan's sweet voice never once spoke 
In its old-time contempt o' the sinful men- 
folk. 

Fer Susan O'Toole 
Had found a bright jewel, 
A masculine peach 
Jes' right fer her reach, 
An' she gathers him in, 
Did Susan. 



[78] 



Ranch and Ran^^e 



ADVICE FROM THE RANGE 

If you don't know how to smile 

To the people all the while; 

If you don't know how to hand 

Ev'ry feller in the land 

Jes' a little bit o' guff, 

Kind o' complimentary stuflf, 

You'd 

Better 

Learn 

How. 

If you don't know how to do 
When old trubble's hittin' you; 
If you don't know how to take 
Ev'ry single keen heartache, 
An' Jes' down it an' jes' lope 
To the shinin' camp o' hope, 

You'd 

Better 

Learn 

How. 

If you don't know all these things 
That a lifetime surely brings, 
All the tricks an' all the ways 
That'll make the darkest days 

[79] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



Full o' sunshine, full o' song, 
'Til they fairly skip along. 

You'd 

Better 

Learn 

How. 



[80] 



Ranch and Range 



WHEN IT'S GETTIN' PLANTIN* TIME 

Did you ever feel that way, 

When warm weather's comin' on, 
An' you smell the green things growin' 

Thro' the dusk an' thro' the dawn? 
Jes' a sort o' stretchy feelin', 

With your thoughts all out o' rhyme, 
Jes' a lazy, dazy feelin', 

When it's gettin' plantin* time. 

When it's gettin' plantin' time, 

An' the grangers sort the seed. 
An' the women start house cleanin', 

An' the blackbird's in the reed. 
Land-a-mighty! hain't you lazy! 

Why, you're scarcelj'^ worth a dime, 
All the work you do is hardship 

When it's gettin' plantin' time. 

'Drather go an' set an' lis'n 

To the curlews callin' there, 
'Drather watch the sunbeams dancin' 

On the gleamy, glinty air. 
'Drather lay back sort o' languid, 

'Drather do most anything 
'Sides workin', when it's gettin' 

Plantin' time along in spring. 



[81] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



SPRING 

(A Poem on a New Subject from the Lariei 
Lyre) 

Spring is here, 
And the brand-new calf 
Doth wobble 'round with mellow 
Laugh. 

The chickens cluck, 
And the glad, young bronco 
Snorting there, 

In all his mad delight doth try- 
To kick the 
Scroll work 
Oflf 
The 
Sky. 



[82] 



Ranch and Range 



LET'S QUIT QUARRELIN' PER 

AWHILE 

Let's quit quarreliii' fer awhile, 
In this ornry kind o' style, 
Let's quit envy, hate an' all, 
Let the light o' heaven fall 
Into hearts that's dark an' dim, 
Thinkin' life's a mournful hymn; 
Sing a song brim o'er with joy, 
Like we sang as when a boy. 
Let us smile an' let's be gay, 
Let's quit quarrelin' fer to-day. 

Let's quit quarrelin' fer awhile, 
Let's shake hands an' let us smile; 
Let's not think a single thought 
That we really hadn't ought. 
Let us play the friendship card, 
Let us have a kind regard 
Fer how other folkses feel; 
Let us quit this envy deal. 
Let's jes' live an' let's be gay, 
Let's quit quarrelin' fer to-day. 



[83] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



WHEN A MAN HAS MONEY 

Friends a-smilin' ev'rywhere, 
Weather lookin' mighty fair; 
Skies a soft an' tender blue, 
Birds a-singin' songs to you. 
"Hello there," an' "mornin' Bill," 
How their eyes with gladness fill. 
How they grab your hand an' shake, 
How they bid you come an' take 
Something wet an' hot with them, 
Jes' to loosen up the flem 
In your throat, fer 'tis so, 
Such like favors count, you know, 
When a man has money. 

Don't the world look bright an' fine, 
In her gown of sun an' shine? 
Hain't she smilin' sweet an' pert, 
Like a reg'Ier little flirt? 
Don't the glad hands to you reach? 
Don't they holler, ''yon^ve: a peach?" 
Don't luck come jes' on the whirr, 
When you hain't a-needin' her? 
Don't things come, oh, don't they, say. 
Come a-runnin' down your way? 
Don't it seem an easy game, 
Pilin' up some more the same, 
When a man has money? 

[84] 



Ranch and Range 



A COWBOY FATALIST 

Oh, I don't care if it's rain or shine, 

Or whether she's ca'm or blows; 
An' I don't think 'tis fault o' mine 

If it don't or if it snows. 
Fer I don't want to even think 

Or care which way I'm bound, 
But jes' keep a-smilin' an' lettin' things 
slide, 

An' keep on a-driftin' around. 

Oh, I don't care if the whole works set, 

Or whether they moves ahead; 
Or what we're goin' to do or get 

When w^e're gone fer keeps an' dead. 
Fer I don't want to even think 

Or care which way I'm bound, 
But jes' keep a-smilin' an' lettin' things 
slide, 

An' keep on a-driftin' around. 

Oh, I don't care what other folks say, 

Or what in me they sees; 
Fer each man's free to think his way, 

An' do as he dern please. 
An' I don't want to even think 

Or care which way I'm bound, 
But jes' keep a-smilin' an* lettin' things 
slide, 

An' keep on a-driftin' around. 

[85] 



Coivhov Lyrics 



THE OLD COWMAN 

I'm not so young as I uster be, 
I'm somewhat gray an' wrinkledy, 
An' I wear my hat — my old white hat — 
On the back o' my neck on a roll o' fat. 
An' I don't ride much like I uster, tho', 
I'm not so dog-goned gumbo slow 
When it comes to bronks, but yet I'll say, 
A buggy fer mine 'most any day. 

But my heart is j'^oung, oh, my heart is 
young, 

An' she sings the songs like she allers sung: 
Dealin' fair an' dealin' square. 
An' findin' friendship everywhere; 

An' never a fear does she let slide, 

Fer the day when I cross the Great Divide. 

Old pards are gone — no use to care. 

They've rode the trail to Overthere; 

But I'll see 'em agin, well, I should shout! 

To jes' shake hands fer all get out! 

I've no regrets an' that's no lie, 

A white man's never afeerd to die; 

Old age an' death has got to be, 

An', by the gods, they don't scare me! 



[86] 



Ranch and Range 



HOLOWAY 

Holoway, that is his name, 
Guess he hain't much known to fame, 
Lived around these hills a few. 
Been to Californy, too. 
Got a ranch jes' down the crick. 
An' a cabin clean an' slick; 
Fer an old batch, Holoway 
'Sneater than a pin, they say. 
But that hain't a mark to the kindness o' 

him or a mark to what he can do. 
If you happen around with a case of the 
blues that's eatin' the heart out o' 
you; 
'Tis then that he'll up an' bust you kerbang 
a slap on the back an' he'll say: 
"What's the use o' your mopin', you might 
better smile, 'cause you looks a lot 
sweeter that way." 

Holoway, yes, Holoway, 
Hair an' beard a-turnin' gray, 
But his heart is jes' as young 
As when all his boyhood sung. 
Yes, his heart is jes' as true, 
Got the same bright hopin', too, 
All these days that you an' me 
Fret into eternity. 

[87] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



But that hain't his style, fer he allers has 
said, "What's the use fer to fuss any- 
way? 

What's past is sure gone an' you might bet- 
ter live fer the smiles you can gather 
today;" 

An' then he will up an' he'll bust you ker- 
bang a slap on the back an' he'll say : 

"What's the use o' your mopin', you might 
better smile, 'cause you looks a lot 
sweeter that way." 



[88] 



Ranch and Ran^e 



A LITTLE AX TO GRIND 

{Pessimistic Poem from the Caustic Pen of the 
Editor of the Lariet Lyre) 

The world's plum' full o" people who nail 
your hand an' smile, 

An' greet you in the warmest an' the glad- 
dest kind o' style; 

While they make quick calculations on your 
humble little pile, 

An' lay their plans to grab it in the joyous 
afterwhile, 
'Cause they has a little ax to grind. 

Politicians an' them roosters what love 

official pap, 
From the boss down to the cringin' an' the 

confidential yap, 
Approach you an' administer your back a 

hearty slap. 
An' put your bump o' caution in a sweet 

an' gentle nap, 
When they has a little ax to grind. 

Women, lov'ly women, fair as the dawn o' 

day, 
Be oft the very angels what make the 

strongest play; 

[89] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



Fer they praise your worldly wisdom in a 

sweet an' gentle way, 
An' you thinks you's back in Eden when 
she springs her charmin' say, 
When she has a little ax to grind. 

'Most ev'ry day some sucker gets the keen 

point o' the gaff, 
An' likewise gets the meller an' the gay 

equestrian laff; 
One half o' all the people wants to work 

the other half, 
An' taffy is o' this here life the only, only 

staff, 
When you has a little ax to grind. 



[90] 



Ranch and Range 



A WORD FROM SHORTY 

Says Shorty Smith: "It seems some strange 

That Cupid rides Affection's range, 

Expectin' sure to make a hit 

Armed with a Injun buck outfit. 

Fer by the way the cards are laid, 

An' alimony now is played, 

I wouldn't think the god could beat her 

Unless he packed a Colts' repeater. 



[91] 



Cozi'boy Lyrics 



DANCE, YOU PUNCHERS, DANCE 

Oh, whoop it up an* let's be gay. 
It's a long time now 'til break o" day; 
So fer a good time get a hunch, 
An' cut your girl from out the bunch — 
An' say — 
You may 
Start them fiddles right away, 
An' Jiggin' Finn 

With his 'cor'din 
Will do the rest, so all join in, 
An' pound the floor with your high-heeled 

boot, 
An' swing your granger girl so cute, 
An' dance, you punchers, dance. 

Oh, lips are sweet an' eyes are bright, 
'Tis sparkin' time fer all tonight; 
So lope along an' do your best. 
An' cut right in an' lead the rest. 
An' say—; 
You may 
Start them fiddles right away. 
An' Jiggin' Finn 

With his 'cor'din 
Will do the rest, so all join in, 

[92] 



Ranch and Range 



An' pound the floor with your high-heeled 

boot, 
An' swing your granger girl so cute, 
An' dance, you punchers, dance. 

There's drink an' fodder fer you-all, 
My land-o'-goodness ! hear that call ! 
The set's a-formin' ! Cut loose now ! 
An' show them bashful fellers how — 
An' say — 
You may 
Start them fiddles right away, 
An' Jiggin' Finn 

With his 'cor'din 
Will do the rest, so all join in, 
An' pound the floor with your high-heeled 

boot, 
An' swing your granger girl so cute. 
An' dance, you punchers, dance. 



[93] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



DOC PIERCE'S WAY 

Speakin' of Doc Pierce's way, 

I've often heerd that old duck say 

He'd rather be hisself than all 

The millyunaires that he could call 

To mind. 'Cause money made or stole or lent, 

Don't never bring no man content. 

Doc says he'd rather be a-settin' back 
A-smokin' in his Black Hills shack 
An' visitin' with his friends than be 
The big High Squeeze of In-die-ee. 

"This thing of cuttin' so much ice, 

An' bein' proud, stuck-up an' nice," 

Says Doc, "don't get no game with me; 

I simply truly want to be 

Myself an' face the music to the end — 

An' never be without a friend." 

Doc's great on friendship, that I know. 
He laughs at every joke I show 
To him, as if the thing I told 
Was not so dog-goned stale an' old 
'Twould make the spirit of sweet mirth 
Go chase itself from ofif the earth. 

[94] 



Ranch and Range 



That's why I'm proud to stand an' say, 
Doc's long on friendship that-o-way; 
Fer friendship him will allers bring 
An' make him suffer anything. 

Doc looks at folks what put on airs, 
An' pass out frozen-featured stares. 
With such contempt he jes' can't speak — 
Jes' shoves his pipe into his cheek, 
An' one eye at the ceilin' winks. 
An' sort o' thinks — jes' sort o' thinks. 

You don't know Doc? well, Doc don't care, 
Altho' you'd be most welcome there — 
Out there in them old solemn hills — 
But Doc don't get no sudden thrills 
On meetin' folks a-tourin' West, 
Doc says old friends are allers best. 

You see, it's hard to understand 
Us people of the western land; 
We've been out there so dog-goned long 
We never sing our friendship song 
In front of folks, like Injuns did, 
We make our heart camps fire-hid. 

Doc says to me not long ago : 
"There's jes' some things I seem to know, 
There's not much to this worldly game 
Of trailin' fortune or bright fame. 

[95] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



I want a pipe, a fireplace an' all 
My real, real friends in easy call; 
An' then the bill I surely fills, 
I'd love to loaf around these hills." 

An' down here in this roarin' town, 
With trolleys grindin' up an' down, 
An' people walkin' over me — 
No stampede's loco as they be — 
I say — I yell with all my might : 
Old Doc is right—he's jes' duni right! 



[96] 



Ranch and Range 



A LIGHT JOKE 

Tho' in a bunk house on a ranch, 

No 'lectric lights are present, 
We slaps a candle in a can, 

An' calls it in-can-des'ent. 
An' if you jes' must know the rest, 

You might as well look pleasant. 
An' laff like blazes when we names 

Our light a tin-can-des'ent. 



[97] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



THE OLD COWBOY'S COMPLAINT 

I stands first guard an' let the kids sleep, 

They sure is a bunch o' logics, 
An' with my beautiful alto voice, 

I mesmerize the dogies. 

I stands last guard an' lets the kids sleep, 
Let 'em rest, the blamed free-lunchers ! 

They rides a mile on a rockin' boss, 
An' thinks they is cowpunchers. 

I stands first guard an' I stands last guard. 

An' rolls some cirgarooties. 
An' makes to myself some pure remarks, 

'Bout them there sleepin' beauties. 

Oh, it's been a stretch of thirty year. 
Since first I roped an' threw 'em, 

An' I'm here to state the west's plum' out 
Of punchers like I knew 'em, 

LOFC. 



[98] 



ON THE TRAIL OF 
LOVE 



Girl of the brown eyes, the clear eyes, the dear 
eyes. 

What would you do for me, love, 

For me, love, for me, love? 
Vd follow you the long trail thro', 
My fears for you, my tears for you, 

For you, love, for you, love. 

Boy of my dreams, my whole dreams, my soul 
dreams. 

What would you do for me, love, 

For me, love, for me, lovef 
I'd shelter you the long trail thro', 
My care for you, my share for you, 

For you, love, for you, love. 



[101] 



ON THE TRAIL OF LOVE 



THAT THERE GIRL 

It's that there girl 'most all the time, 
Fer workin* I hain't worth a dime; 
An' jes' can't turn around or stir 
Without some foolish thought o' her. 
Can scarcely sleep or eat my chuck — 
Dog-gone the luck! I guess I'm stuck! 



[103] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



SPEAKIN' OF HER EYES 

Speakin' of her eyes, well, they makes me 

Jes' 'bout as batty as can be; 

An' tho' fer sleep I surely plays, 

I stays awake an' thro' a haze 

I sees the baby laugh that lies 

A-loafin' 'round her eyes — her eyes. 

An' then I walk an' smoke an' fret, 

It hain't no use, I can't ferget. 



[1041 



On the Trail of Love 



THEM HEAP BIG THOUGHTS 

It seems to me some passin' strange, 
When Love rides 'cross a feller's range, 
He thinks of thoughts a wholesale store, 
Such thoughts he never thought before : 
Them heap big thoughts, as Injuns say, 
Of life an' death an' music gay, 
An' flags an' crowds an' flashin' things, 
An' then sometimes he backward springs 
To thoughts o' mountains big an' high, 
Where giants set an' watch the sky 
At sunset grand an' great an' still, 
An' all the world seems dreamin' 'til 
He looks around to hear this call : 
"You're jes' in love, my boy, that's all." 



[105] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



THAT SCRUB 

'Twas jes' at dark on Friday last 

I see her go a-ridin' past 

With that there survey outfit scrub, 

That sickly-lookin' four-eyed dub 

What Uncle Sam has sent out here 

To drift around an' interfere 

With other folks' affairs an' such — 

She needn't think that he's so much! 

He'll keep a-trifiin' 'round, he will, 

Until some one will sort o' fill 

His tender hide plum' full o' lead — 

Some folks look better when they's dead. 



[106] 



On the Trail of Love 



SHE WRITES A NOTE 

She writes a note, it starts, "Dear Boy," 
That surely hobbles me with joy; 
An' then she says she wonders why 
I stays away, an' then, well, I 
Jes' saddles up an' hits the trail 
An' thanks my stars fer U. S. mail. 
An' at the gate she's waitin'; say. 
She takes my hat an' there I stay — 
That survey scrub ? He wins no bets ! 
The son-of-a-gun I plum' fergets! 



[107] 



Coivboy Lyrics 



HER HANDS 

As to her hands, say, they's sure fine; 
One time she let them lay in mine — 
All soft an' clingy-like they were. 
Them little velvet hands o' her; 
An' once she set my heart apace 
By pressin' one agin my face. 
On heaven-talk I hain't much flush, 
Nor is I long on love-sick slush. 
But still I'll say her little hand 
Can pint the trail to Happy Land. 

I wish sometimes I'd have a fight, 
An' not get killed, but shot up right; 
Not bad, you know, jes' middlin' worse, 
Jes' so I'd have to have a nurse. 
An' then she'd come an' look that sad, 
'Twould make me feel all-fired glad; 
An' then it drifts to me somehow. 
She'd lay her cool hand on my brow, 
An' let me right here rise an' tell, 
I'd die of joy or I'd get well. 



[108] 



On the Trail of Love 



CONFIDENTIAL 

When her arms drift 'round my neck, 

An' her head's agin my breast, 
Seems to me the whole creation 

Sort o' faints or takes a rest. 
When she camps upon my knee, 

An' her cheek's agin my face, 
Hain't no round-up boss of glory 

But what's wishin' fer my place. 
Speakin' private, when she kisses. 

With a httle, catchy breath, 
I jes' die — an' blamed glad of it — 

One sweet, temporary death, 



1109] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



TO DANCE WITH HER 

To dance with her rounds-up such bhss, 

I can't rope words to half explain; 
It's so blamed sweet it seems to be 

A second cousin to a pain. 
She drifts an' leans agin my arm — 

Sweetheart an' dreams an' music fine — 
If anything is better, say ! 

I'd choke with joy if it was mine. 



[110] 



On the Trail of Love 



SPEAKIN' OF ARMS 

I uster think that arms was made 
To jerk a bronk or throw a rope; 

But now I knows such talk is what 
Them editors ear-mark as dope. 

It's funny, but it seems these arms, 
Tho' long, don't over-reach a bit. 

An' tho' she'd never tried 'em on, 
I jes' be cussed if they don't fit. 

An' since I've met her things has changed, 
These arms won't stand fer such abuse 

As fightin' bronks or ras'lin' calves, 
B 'cause they's got a sweeter use. 

An' all I has to say is this: 

All future toil I surely shirk. 
Since fer these arms I've better use 

Than mere degradin' common work. 



[111] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



THE TRYST 

I've ridden since the day throwed back 

The trailers of the night, 
An' what fer, shall I tell you, 

In a stampede o' delight? 
To wait out by the cottonwoods, 

An' dove-call softly to 
A girl I know will answer: 

"I'm a-comin', boy, to you." 

'Twas no time to spare my bronco; 

His breathin' spells were brief; 
He's white with foam an' shakin' 

Like the Chinook shakes the leaf. 
Fer I've splashed thro' muddy rivers, 

An' loped across divides, 
An' ridden where no puncher 

In his reason ever rides. 

Thro' wallers caked with gumbo, 

The buffalo once knew; 
Thro' water holes an' washouts. 

An' a-boggin' in the slew. 
O'er alkali an' sage brush flats 

I cut the whistlin' breeze, 
An' come straight as the eagle 

When his lady bird's to please. 

[112] 



On the Trail of Love 



I'm a-watchin' an' I'm waitin' 

With heart as light as air, 
As happy as they make 'em, 

Either here or anywhere. 
Jes' to Hsten fer her footfall, 

An' hear her sweet voice thro' 
The prairie silence murmur, 

"I'm a-comin', boy, to you." 



[113] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



JES' A-FOOLIN' 

She says to me, "I wish you would 

Jes' quit all time a-teasin' me, 
From morn 'til night it seems that you 

Won't fer a minit let me be. 
Go 'way now, feller, let me 'lone, 

I never liked you much nohow;" 
But say, she laffs when she says that — 

She's jes' a-foohn', I'll allow. 

I goes to see her Sunday night; 

She allers says she doesn't care 
If I don't come, but why has she 

Them bran '-new ribbins in her hair? 
An' why's she got her best dress on? 

Jes' tell me that an' tell me now; 
But still she claims she doesn't care — 

Still jes' a-foolin', I'll allow. 

T'other night I tells her straight 

I loves her, an' you ought to see 
That little flirt jes' tip-toe up 

An' give the sweetest kiss to me — 
Ah-m-m-m ! 'twas sweet, but still she says 

She doesn't like me much nohow, 
An' then she'll laff an' squeeze my hand — 

Still jes' a-fooHn', I'll allow. 



[114] 



On the Trail of Love 



REAL AFFECTION 

If I could say the words I think, 

My tongue with overwork would bust; 
I'd make old Shakespeare rise an' say: 

"What varlot now disturbs my dust!" 
If I would do the things which I 

Am simply achin' to perform, 
I'd rope the Hghtnin' an' I'd jerk 

The terror from the blindin' storm. 

I'd use a comet fer a bronk, 

An' ride him stuck-up like an' proud; 
My spurs wotild be a pair of stars, 

My blanket jes' a fleecy cloud. 
I'd roundup all the planets an' 

I'd do it sudden, sure an' soon. 
An' then I'd set back ca'm an' watch 

Them mill around the helpless moon. 

I'd do all this an' maybe more, 

Pervidin' that I thought it would 
To this here busted heart of mine 

Do any sort of passin' good. 
I'd do it all an' take a chance 

To hold the trail thro' Afterwhile, 
If she would throw me jes' one word 

An' tie it up with one sweet smile. 



[115] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



A COWBOY'S RESOLUTION 

I holds a tight rope on conviction, 

Determination's ever been my style, 
An' to tie an' brand a resolution, 

'Most any day I'd run a dozen mile. 
I am that set in my opinion, 

A mule is like a rabbit a-side me, 
There hain't no use to try persuasion, 

Fer what I say has simply got to be. 

There hain't no livin', breathin' woman 

Can make me jump or hang upon her word; 
No skirt what's flirty or uncertain 

Can ever hope to cut me out the herd. 
I've said she'd have to quit her triflin', 

An' 'til she did no pictured olive branch — 
She writes me notes on foolscap paper — 

Would make me ever even cross her ranch. 

Of course on Sunday nothin's doin'. 

An' really I've some business with her dad, 
So I'll happen in jes' fer to see him — 

(I wonder if she is a-feehn' sad?) 
I holds a tight rope on conviction, 

Determination's ever been my style. 
An' to tie an' brand a resolution, 

'Most any day I'd run a dozen mile. 



[116] 



On the Trail of Love 



BASHFULNESS 

Oh, say, I'd like to tell her 

That I love her like the breeze 
Loves the leaves, or like the sunshine 

Loves the whisp'rin' cotton trees; 
Like the water loves the pebbles, 

Singin' soft an' singin' low. 
But when I starts to tell her — 

I jes' 

Don't know. 

Oh, say, I'd hke to tell her 

That I love her like the smile 
Loves her face, or like the dimples 

Love her sweet mouth all the while; 
That I love an' love an' love her 

Better than my life, but tho' 
When I starts out to tell her — 

I jes' 

Don't know. 



[117] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



TRAIL SONG 

Little girl, back in the town, 

Be you a-lovin' me? 
Little girl, back in the town, 

Be you a-lovin' me? 

Uster think the dawns was fine, 
With their colors all a-shine, 
'Til I seen your eyes, Lu-lee, 
Smilin', laffin' back at me. 

Uster think the lilies tall, 
Of all flowers passed 'em all, 
'Til I seen you standin' there 
With the sunshine on your hair. 

Uster to dream o' that Great Camp, 
When I'd watch the heaven's lamp 
Light the whole wide range o' blue; 
Now I'm dreamin' jes' o' you. 

Little girl, back in the town, 

Be you a-lovin' me? 
Little girl, back in the town, 

Be you a-lovin' me? 



[118] 



On the Trail of Love 



AN' A TWO-STEP'S WHAT THEY PLAY 

A little queen in calico, 

Her smiles — them killin' smiles — 
Be jes' some o' a thousand 

Of her wicked ways an' wiles; 
An' she's the smoothest dancer 

'Most anywhere you'll see, 
An' you ought to see her two-step, 

La-de-da, along with me. 

Oh, she's light as any feather, 

The music's simply fine. 
An' I jes' get plum' loco 

When her face is close to mine. 
Fer my heart is thinkin' something 

My lips don't dast to say. 
When she leans agin my shoulder 

An' a two-step's what they play. 

I could dance w^ith her ferever, 

Wisht we never'd get thro', 
'Cause Time jes' takes a lay-off. 

An' reason quits work, too. 
Seems ev'rything has ended, 

Fer a spell f ergot to be. 
When they plays a two-step sweetly 

An' she drifts away with me. 



[119] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



PARTIALITY 

You can sing about the glory 

Of the summer sunset skies, 
But I will keep a-hummin' 

'Bout the glory of her eyes. 
You can sing about the roses, 

But roses can't compare 
To this little granger maiden 

With some ribbin in her hair. 

You can sing about the lilies, 

Jes' as pure as purest snow. 
But I'll jes' keep a-hummin' 

'Bout a fairer flower, tho'; 
A purer, sweeter flower 

Than the Hly bendin' there, 
Jes' a little granger maiden 

With some ribbin in her hair. 

All you poets sing o' beauty 

In the flowers, skies an' streams, 
But I'll jes' keep a-hummin' 

'Bout one girlie in my dreams; 
'Cause I think my subjeck's sweeter 

Think I sing a sweeter air, 
'Cause it's all about a maiden 

With some ribbin in her hair. 



[120] 



On the Trail of Love 



A ROMANCE OF THE RANGE 

She's been out here a-teachin' this winter 

now that's past, 
An' I hears that she's a-tellin' that it's jes' 

about her last — 
That she's goin' to quit the schoolroom an' 

goin' home to stay — 
An' somehovv^ I'm jes' hatin' fer to see her go 

awa3^ 
Fer us fellers think that schoolmarm is an 

angel; yes, we do — 
A little blue-eyed angel, yet a woman thro' 

an' thro'; 
An' she treats us all so kindly, jes' the same 

'most ev'ry day, 
That somehow I'm jes' hatin' fer to see her 

go away. 
She hain't never give me reasons fer to think 

I'd have a show 
To win her, but I'm honest when I say I like 

her so 
That I dread her time fer goin', count ev'ry 

passin' day, 
'Cause I'm hatin', jes' a-hatin', fer to see her 

go away. 
Well, her term is 'bout completed an', say, 

I don't think I 
Have got the nerve to greet her fer to say a 

last goodby; 

[121] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



Seems so tough! Oh, well, I'm feelin', call 

it heartsick, if you may — 
'Cause I'm hatin', jes' a hatin', fer to see her 

go away. 

LATER 

Oh, say, I'm 'bout as happy as a feller wants 

to be; 
Went to see her an', by glory, she jes' upped 

an' cried — you see! 
An' right there I had to say it, what so long 

I've feerd to say. 
An' now we've gone an' fixed it so she'll 

never go away. 



[122] 



On the Trail of Love 



AN ODE TO THE SLOW HORSE 

Oh, now that sleyin' time is here an' weather 

is jes' boss, 
I hkes to take her drivin' with the tamest 

kind o' hoss. 
I wants no prancin' bronco that makes a 

sudden dive, 
An' r'ars an' t'ars hisself in two, 
But one 

That she 
Can drive. 

I wants a bronk what knows his biz an' minds 

it to the chalk; 
I wants a bronk can pass the rest, yet slow 

down to a walk 
When I has got my arms engaged, while 

hearts from bustin' strive; 
I wants a bronk, that kind o' bronk, 
That kind 

That she 
Can drive. 

When sparkin' nights an' sleyin' nights an' 

moonlight nights are here, 
An' she an' I are tryin' fer to snuggle close 

an' near, 

[123] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



I wants a bronk what pokes along an' lets 

our hearts revive 
On Love's own joy behind a bronk, 
A bronk 
That she 
Can drive. 



[124] 



On the Trail of Love 



TRUE LOVE 

Oh, true love don't ne'er stampede at what 
folks think or say, 
An' ridicule jes' simply spurs him on; 
You can pitch an'r'ar an' jolt, but when once 
he gets a holt, 
You might as well admit that you is gone. 

I'm free to mention that she's a lady workin' 
at 
The very best hash foundry in the town; 
I'm here to likewise say that fer sweet an' 
winnin' way. 
The best of them can't hope to call her 
down. 

There's the "400" here what sniffle some an' 
sneer, 
An' think ace high above her they stand 
scored, 
'Cause she's packin' Irish stew to a famine- 
stricken crew 
Or shootin' vulgar biscuits 'cross a board. 

When roundup's thro' an' done, I rides back 
here on the run — 
She waits on one star boarder after that; 
I'm certain that-o-way an' I stakes my life 
she'll say : 
"Jes' wait until I gets my Sxrnday hat." 

[125] 



Cozvhoy Lyrics 



What's that? You seem to scout a httle 

cloud o' doubt, 

An' figgers that perhaps she'll pass me by; 

But it's ignerance makes you take that pes- 

simistick view — 

Don't she allers give me SECONDS on the 



[126J 



On the Trail of Love 



TIME'S HEAVY HAND 

She was jes' a little granger an' her folks 

lived on Elk crick, 
Jes' a little dark-eyed granger, but she allers 

drest that slick 
You'd think she'd caught the fashion from 

the ladies o' the town, 
'Specially when buggy-ridin' in her Sunday- 

meetin' gown. 

Uster take her 'way out drivin' on a Sunday, 

don't you know. 
But I'd let her do the drivin', fer I liked it 

better so; 
An' then my arm would circle — huh, she'd 

pertend to frown — 
The place what was the smallest in her 

Sunday-meetin' gown. 

Starlight, yes, an' prairies dreamin', cotton- 
woods a-sighin' there. 

An' the wind a sort o' triflin' an' a-foolin' with 
her hair; 

An' a ribbin on my shoulder or a strayin' 
curl o' brown. 

An' her heart a-beatin' gently 'gin her Sunday- 
meetin' gown. 

[127] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



Uster kiss her — huh, well, sort o' — when the 

moon got back a cloud, 
An' she'd pout her lips pertendin' she was 

mad an' then aloud 
She'd laff an' fix her ribbins, fer at times such 

things come down 
When a girl goes buggy-ridin' in her Sunday- 

meetin' gown. 

Goodness my ! but time's skeedaddled; jes' 

a-driftin' that-o-way, 
I'm bald-headed — gettin' worser ev'ry single 

passin' day; 
An' mother, oh, well, mother busts the scales 

up in the town. 
An' she's made herself a necktie of that 

Sunday-meetin' gown- 



[128] 



On the Trail of Love 



PLATO DISPUTED 

When two folks love each other it hain't no 

earthly use 
Fer hide-bound criticism to hand out cold 

abuse, 
Fer nature has 'em hobbled, that's what, my 

turtle dove, 
'Cause there's no such place as a Half-way 

House 

Upon the Trail of Love. 

Lady-bird, I wants to tell you, tell you glad 

an' free, 
That old duck named Plato was wrong as 

wrong can be; 
As sure as there's a roundup on the great 

range above, 
There's no such place as a Half-way House 
Upon the Trail of Love. 

You ride the trail to the finish, go lopin' riglit 

along, 
An' never stop to question if it be right or 

wrong ; 
You spurs your bronco forward an' backward 

reason shove, 
'Cause there's no such place as a Half-way 

House 

Upon the Trail of Love. 

[129] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



WHEN SHE GOES TO GET THE MAIL 

She hain't got any dimunds nor a rustlin' lot 

o' silk, 
Never uses them cosmetics, never bathes her 

face in milk; 
But she's jes' a little chicken livin' out there 

by the trail, 
That a feller meets a Sunday when she goes 
to get the mail. 

When she goes to get the mail 
An' the sunset's gettin' pale, 
An' the grass is like a carpet 
'Long the old Pactola trail. 

Freckles, yes, but lips of honey; nose turns 

up a bit, I guess. 
An' there's jes' a scad o' patches in her little 

homely dress; 
But I'd rather, rather have her than most 

others that I know, 
B'cause, well, honest Injun, jes' b'cause I 
love her so. 

When she goes to get the mail, 
Allers meet her without fail, 
Jes' to ride home in the twilight 
On the old Pactola trail. 

[130] 



On the Trail of Love 



Left her one night lookin' back with the tear- 
shine in her eyes, 
An' her voice was sort o' trembly Hke most 

women's when they cries; 
An' I've ranged the dreary country from the 

start to ev'ry where, 
But somehow I'm allers thinkin' that I left 
my heart back there. 

When she goes to get the mail, 
Girl, I'll never, never fail 
Fer to love an' long to see you 
On the old Pactola trail. 



[1311 



Cowboy Lyrics 



THE PRINCESS OF DESIRE 

Lem Scobey, of the Flying V, 
Tells out the tale one night to me, 
Of Sheriff Ben, the lad an' her. 
An' the Ralton gang of Sinneber. 

Said Scobey, gazing at the fire, 
"We names her Princess of Desire, 
B 'cause we figgers some that she 
Was 'bout as perfect as they be; 
An', bein' so, 'twas certain she 
Was member o' the royalty 
In that there state o' Sweet Desire, 
Where Love is king an' no one higher. 

"She comes to camp one ba'my day. 

An' a pale-like lad hung that-o-way 

Along her trail, you'd think she had 

A mortgage on that self -same lad. 

That boy jes' idolized her, too, 

'Cause 'fore he come he'd jes' pulled thro' 

A fierce old bleedin' at the lungs — 

'Most thought he'd dim' the Golden Rungs. 

Then she jes' packs him, kit an' all, 

An' comes to Lariet that fall. 

He loves her strong, the boy sure did — 

An' we o' such-like was not rid — 

Not brother love but gen-u-wine 

Old 'Achin' Heart' an' 'Ever Thine,' 

[132] 



On the Trail of Love 



"Her folks was dead an' she had come 
To dabble 'round in cattle some, 
An' 'side from lookin' after wealth 
Was standin' guard o'er that kid's health. 

"She uster set there on the step 
O' the hotel, whilst others slept. 
An' softly talk to them what staid 
An' hung around her half-afraid. 
Like moths all singed with candle-flame 
What still set in an' play the game. 
An' then she'd say to Brother Jim 
To get her wraps, an' then the slim 
Kid would burn the trail so rabbit -fast 
You'd think he thought it was the last 
Sure chance to win some sweet smiles fer 
A-hangin' on the word o' her. 

"With men, her lov'ly face an' form 
Would start a reg'ler bhndin' storm 
Of feelin' — that which chokes a man — 
I say, old pard, soft fingers can 
Bind more than chains or bars or bolts, 
Or any kind o' man-made holts. 

"She uster make me sort o' think 

Of tiger lilies on the brink 

Of some cool stream, where fairies played, 

Or little children lafhn' strayed. 

An' then agin it seemed to me 

Her eyes belt all the mystery 

That this old world has ever known — 

[133] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



Jes' like you feel when all alone 

Out on the range at dead o' night, 

When spirits whirl in locoed flight, 

An' all is still an' shadders crawl. 

An' things grow grand an' great an' tall; 

An' in the dark your bare soul lies, 

An' God jes' reads it with his eyes. 

To see her was to sure release 

Your everlastin' holt on peace; 

To hear her voice meant Love to spring 

Up in your heart a restless thing; 

An' in your dreams she'd smile an' you 

Would give your life if it was true. 

"Of course, we all gets dreamin' some — 
To 'most all men such dreams will come — 
An' now I hain't ashamed to say 
The Princess smiled my heart away. 
But one night I jes' fights it out, 
An' gets my senses back — about. 
I? Why, matin' with a shinin' star, 
I stands more chance by ten times far. 
An' so I plays unto the end 
With her a plain, outspoken friend; 
But 'twas a lie that hurt like sin, 
But still Love's great if you don't v/in. 

"But vSheriff Ben was hopeless hit, 
An' oftentimes he uster sit 
With her o' moonlight nights, an' she 
Would talk to him, an' he, well, he 
Would jes' grow pale with pure delight — 

[134] 



Oil the Trail of Love 



It was a cinch he had it right — 

An' scarcely say a word or speak, 

But looks into her eyes as meek 

As any child. Yet this here Ben 

Was a rip-snorter out with men. 

He had gray eyes an' when he spoke 

'Twas gener'ly from out the smoke 

Of his old six-guns; when he turned 

Them loose, then gray eyes burned 

An' got like little pints o' steel, 

An' no man cared their glance to feel. 

Big chest, thin flanks an' quickness that 

Was like a high-strung mountain cat — 

Yet with the Princess he was like 

A little child, an' oft we'd pike 

To Big Pete's Place an' leave Ben there, 

A-courtin' of his lady fair. 

"Don't know jes' how it happened then. 

But seems she was a-stringin' Ben — 

Jes' playin' him as fishers play 

A fish they know can't get away; 

Jes' passin' time away fer fun 

With Ben's true heart all cinched an' won. 

Of course, us fellers see it hard. 

But dassent lend a helpin' card; 

Fer well we knows that Ben would drag 

His bunch o' guns an' surely bag 

The gent what spoke a word o' her, 

Or jingled e'en a warnful spur 

In front the Bronk o' Love persuiri' 

The reckless trail to lastin' ruin. 



[135] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



"You 'members when the Raltons gay 
Holds up the mail one late fall day 
To grab that gold fer eastern lands 
Into their hungry, lovin' hands? 
Then Ben jes' saddles up an' rode 
Up front the Princessus' abode. 
She laffed an' wished him scads o' luck, 
An' her white fingers at him shuck, 
An' said, 'Tomorrow night, a week, 
Bring me the Raltons, Mister Meek.' 
Poor Ben, with heart all strung up fine. 
Chokes back Love's words an' ties a line 
Around his gauntlet, mindless-like, 
Then says, 'Goodby, I takes a hike; 
Alone I brings the Raltons in; 
I stay out there — or else I win ; 
I takes my pris'ners 'lone,' he said, 
'An' if I can't — well, some one's dead.' 
But she jes' laffs an' leaves Ben there, 
As if she did not have a care 
If Death fer him some suddin knocks — 
Say, woman's sure a paradocks. 

"Not that her tears would helt him back 
From off o' Duty's shinin' track, 
But had she flashed Love's sign to Ben, 
He'd never'd been so reckless then. 
He'd took us fellers 'long an' we 
Would make short work o' hold-ups three ; 
But man's fool pride an' woman's way 
Let Death play winner on that day. 



[136] 



On the Trail of Love 



"We knows Ben's style an' knows he would 
Make ev'ry word he says stand good, 
An', knowin' there was three hard men 
To one, we ups an' f oilers Ben. 
By layin' low an' hangin' back 
An' trailin' up his bronco's track — 
Which then at times grows mighty dim — 
We 'lows to keep in reach o' him. 
Fer if he'd sight us, sure, he'd come 
An' turn us spraddlin' back fer home. 
'I takes my prisoners 'lone,' he said, 
'An' when I can't — well, some one's dead.' 

"The next day out we slips up to 
Three trails, an' one a-windin' thro' 
We spots as Ben's, an' Billy Bawn 
Locates Ben's boots, the spurs are on. 
An' in some trees we starts his hoss — 
The painted one he names 'Old Boss' — 
Half -dead fer water, then beyun' 
We sees where he'd the fight begun. 

"He gets two men the first thing done, 
An' then the third one jerks his gun 
An' let's Ben have it in the chest. 
An' Ben comes back his very best — 
An' there the four o' 'em lay still, 
An' o' that sight I gets my fill, 
An' goes away fer quite a spell. 
Queer feehn' that, I'm here to tell. 



[137] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



"You see, Ben'd slipped up quiet-like, 
An' 'fore they could much think to strike, 
He calls "handsup," but they don't heed. 
So two o' them get what they need, 
An' then what's left winds up the game — 
A quick, clean fight it was the same. 

"Afore he dies Ben writes three words, 
A pencil scratch, fer when Death herds 
A man he don't write fancy, tho' 
'Twas plain enuff fer her to know. 
'I love her,' them's the words he wrote; 
'I love her,' was his dyin' note. 

"An' so we ropes him on his hoss — 
The painted one he names 'Old Boss,' 
An' when the sun was goin' down. 
We brings the sheriff into town, 

"I finds her on the hotel step. 
An' 'round her great, queer shadders crept; 
Her face shone white, jes' like two stars 
Was her dear eyes — an' then the bars 
Of rough, hard talk I jes' let down. 
An' says, 'We brings him into town; 
He's dead, an' little does you care 
Of how or what or when or where!' 

"She says no word, jes' goes stone-blind. 
An* stumblin', tries my hand to find. 
An' when I tells her what Ben wrote. 
She t'ars a cry from out her throat — 

[138] 



On the Trail of Love 



An' then come tears — such tears — such tears, 
They made -me think I had the Queers; 
An' then I goes away to hide 
My own, own love fer which I'd lied. 

"An' that same night the Princess cried 
'Til dayhght by the Sheriff's side. 

"Next day she leaves, an' blamed if we 
Did not the worst kind hate to see 
Her go, an', well, it makes me sort o' sigh, 
Fer she jes' kissed us all goodby; 
Ne'r missed a one, 'cept Billy Bawn, 
Who says, "I takes mine lookin' on." 

"Now this here yarn o' woman's ways, 

I never sabes in my days; 

When Ben was livin' she would laff 

An' think it fun to ever gaff 

His heart, but when he ups an' dies 

She goes cl'ar wild an' cries — an' ones." 



[139] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



THE MAN YOU COULDN'T GET 

You can cry and you can try, 
To the very day you die, 
Turnin' up a haughty nose — 
Sort o' scornful, I suppose, 
But you're still a-dreamin' yet 
Of the man you couldn't get. 

Most as likely some day you 
Will get married — hope you do — 
An' your proud neck bend to rub 
Little dresses in a tub; 
But somehow I place this bet : 
Him you never will ferget. 

Course you knows time's comin' that 
You'll be homely, old an' fat; 
Then your man will wonder why 
Once a great while that you sigh ; 
Well you knows what makes you fret, 
Even then you can't ferget. 

Husband, yes, he'll wonder why 
That you turn a-drift a sigh, 
Tho' he'll feel it sort o' dim, 
That the said sigh hain't fer him — 
It's fer one you love some yet : 
Fer the man you couldn't get. 

[140] 



On the Trail of Love 



He don't care, fer 'tis true, 
He jes' sort o' thinks o' you, 
As a girl he uster know — 
One o' many, sure, that's so. 
But you're longin', sighin' yet, 
Fer the man you couldn't get. 

Can't ferget that night that you 
Loved him long an' sweet an' true, 
Can't ferget his voice an' stjde, 
Reckless, careless all the while, 
Can't ferget that old dark day, 
When he laffed and walked away. 



[141] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



SARY 

When Sary waves her hand to me, 

An' smiles as sweet as honey, 
She hands to me a bunch o' joy, 

What has no price in money. 
Right pert-hke stands the Httle trick, 

An' says : "So long, my feller," 
An' well she knows "goodby's" the word, 

What I jes' hate to tell her. 

When Sary waves her hand to me, 

Say, there's no use o' talkin*, 
Away from her to jump my bronk, 

Be hardest kind o' walkin'. 
'Pears ev'ry step comes slower an' 

My feet get so contrary, 
B'cause they knows it is not right 

To walk away from Sary. 

When Sary waves her hand to me, 

I feels so triflin' lonely, 
That I'd go back but then I knows 

That maiden would jes' only 
Give me the laff, an' then agin, 

It's that much more to suflfer, 
Fer one goodby is tuff enuflf. 

Whilst two goodbys is tuffer. 



[142] 



On the Trail of Love 



A LOTHARIO OF THE RANGE 

If Love won't come to me today, 

(I meets her at a dance), 
I'll saddle up an' sift away 
Across the range, Oh, my turtle dove. 
An' I ropes fer you that yearlin' Love: 

An' it's blue eyes an' golden hair, 
An' lips that makes me faint, 

An' a lovin' way that makes me say : 
"Dog-gone all cold restraint !" 

If Love won't come to me today, 

(I sees her back in town). 
Around this ranch I will not stay; 
Fer I hears you sigh an' hears you cry : 
"Without you, boy, I will surely die :" 

An' it's black eyes an' blacker hair, 
An' smiles to make me glad ; 

An' a desp'rate way that makes me say 
"I'll never make you mad." 

If Love won't come to me today, 
(Her old paw keeps a dog), 
I'll saddle up my bronco gay, 
An' hit the trail, Oh, I know you're true, 
An' I comes a-runnin', sweet, to you : 

[143] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



An' it's dark eyes an' soft brown hair, 
An' hands that cling to mine, 

An' a dreamy way that makes me say : 
"You certainly is tine." 

If Love won't come to me today, 

(I hates to talk so plain). 
My only stack I'll up an' play, 
An' stakes the wad that I beats the god, 
An' make him feel like a sun-burnt clod : 

An' it's girls, Oh, girls, please listen, 
Don't think I am a fright; 

Fer it hain't no fun to love jes' one, 
With millions more in sight. 



[144] 



On the Trail of Love 



BOY, WILL YOU CARE? 

Onct, twilight time, we's out an' she 
Jes' looks away — away from me, 
Into the fadin' sunset range, 
An' then I sees her sweet face change. 
An' that sad look come driftin' there, 
An' then she says : "Boy, will you care, 
When I jes' fade like that there light 
Is soft a-fadin' into night?" 

An' I jes' laffs an' answers back, 
"Don't you no borrowed trubble pack, 
An' cross no cricks or fords, my dear, 
When they be miles away from here." 
An' sort o' like she was a kid. 
Around her one big arm I slid, 
An' gathers her up close to me, 
An' speakin' out some suddenly: 
"Jes' let the blamed old sunset fade, 
The dawn's a-comin', who's afraid? 
Fer time or age or anything. 
That the dark future has to spring, 
Sees me the same an' that is true, 
Fer, by the way, I jes' love you." 



[145] 



WHERE THE CHINOOK 
BLOWS 



The west wind wooed the blushing rose, 

And blew her kisses sweet with musk 
Front dawn of day tmtil the stars 

Shone tenderly thro' purple dusk. 
The west wind wooed the blushing rose, 

And sang to her a heart-song true, 
And placed upon her head a crown 

Of sunshine's gold begemmed with dew. 
The ivest wind wed the blushing rose. 

Embowered there in leafy nook, 
And heaven blessed their first-born fair, 

The fragrant and the warm Chinook. 



[149] 



WHERE THE CHINOOK 
BLOWS 



GREEN PRAIRIES 

Green prairies, green prairies all drenched in 

the rain, 
Or a-gleam in the dance of the sunbeams 

again; 
In the sheen and the shine of the dawn and 

the light, 
Or the murk and the gloom of the shadows of 

night ; 
In hearts that have known thee thy memories 

reign, 
And thy voices, clear calUng, call never in vain. 



[151] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



THE RANCH HOUSE 

Upon the logs a wolf hide hangs, 
A saddle lies beside the door, 

And just within its shadow there 
A baby creeps upon the floor. 



[152] 



JVhere the Chinook BJoivs 



THE SPRING ROUNDUP 

A world of dust peopled by strange shapes 

That whirl and plunge and rear, 
A carnival of sound, deep, wild and hoarse, 

That speaks maternal fear. 
Stern work for man and trusty horse, 

Swing out, sv/ing in and pass ! 
The day is hot and long, but 5'et 

Tonight, upon the grass. 
The horse will ease his fevered sides 

And man will count it blest 
To smoke and talk and lastly know 

The pleasant range of rest. 



[153] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



THE CAMP'S ASLEEP 

The camp's asleep and thro' the gloom, 
The white-topped wagons spectral loom; 
And weird the lonesome coyotes call, 
And quiet stars stand watch o'er all. 
The fire's down, the shadows creep, 
Their work is done, the camp's asleep. 



[154] 



Where the Chinook Blozvs 



TWILIGHT ON THE RANGE 

To soft subdue the wide wastes to its thrall, 
Palpatant, a purple haze enchanteth all; 
Silence, save the curlew's sad, insistent call, 
Or suddenly and sweet the mellow boom 
Of night hawks circling thro' the deepening 
gloom. 



[155] 



Cozvboy Lyrics 



THE CROCUS 

Shadow-shapes of skulking wolves along the 
bluffs, 

They prey upon some weakling of the herd . 
Snow-mottled all the prairie lies, 

The sky an ashen gray, the sunlight blurred. 
Gone, gone are all the hopes that bloomed 

In summers past 'neath skies of blue. 
Lo, see ! a crocus in a bed of snow, 

Ah, hope of summer blooms anew. 



[156] 



Where the Chinook Blows 



TIGER LILIES 

Warrior flowers, with tossing plumes of red, 
In stately groups with flaunting banners 

spread; 
A triumphant host among the humble grass, 
Guarding every upland park and pass. 



[157] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



SAGE BRUSH 

A dusty trail, a burning sky, 

And splotch of leprous alkali; 

Gray, somber wastes that touch the rim 

Of Shadow Land, vast, vague and dim. 



[158] 



Where the Chinook Blows 



THE BAD LANDS 

Bluffs of ochre and brown and red. 

In varied glory flare, 
For here is the land of mystery, 

Where God plays solitaire. 

A gray plain and a soft mirage, 
In the blue haze over there, 

For here is the land of lonesomeness, 
Where God plays solitaire. 

A mudded butte and shapes that come 

And at the sunset stare, 
For here is the land of forgotten pasts, 

Where God plays solitaire. 

A silence that dwarfs the soul of man, 
Oh, the silence everywhere ! 

For here is the land of things unsolved. 
Where God plays solitaire. 



[1591 



Cowboy Lyrics 



THE RATTLESNAKE 

O'er sun-baked plains he winds his way, 
Slow squirms his glittering length along, 
And from the sage brush sanded gray, 
Doth come his fearful warning song. 
Watch, watch for him, his sting is death, 
And in those angry, flaming eyes 
Doth lurk the a^\"ful hate of years. 
Sunning where the barren bluffs arise, 
He lies in lazy coil. The scaly lid 
Doth curtain o'er those vengeful eyes; 
Doth hold their murderous fire hid — 
When lo, a step is heard, the horrid head 
Is swiftly reared and keen he sounds 
His challenge full of deathless hate. 



160] 



Where the Chinook Blows 



THE BUTTES 

Half-hid in shadow, vague and drear, 
They loom like sculptured shapes of fear 
Monuments and ghastly domes, 

And toppling turrets tall, 
That rear misshapen forms above 

Yon monstrous castle wall — 
Yon castle wall where dwarfish pine, 

In ragged fringes set, 
To scar the sick moon's pallid face. 

With grotesque silhouette. 



[161] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



PRAIRIE WOLVES 

Up where the white bluffs fringe the plain, 
When heaven's lights are on the wane, 
They sing their songs as demons might 
Shriek wild a chorus to the night. 
Gaunt, gray brutes with dripping fangs, 
And eyes aflame with hunger-pangs, 
With lips curled back in snarls of hate, 
They wail a curse against their fate. 



[162] 



Where the Chinook Blows 



THE WINDS OF THE WEST 

Oh, the west winds, the wild winds, glad va- 
grants and free. 

They sing of the lure of the long trail to me ; 

They sing of a bluff, a lone wolf on the crest, 

And the tang of the sage from the wastes to 
the west. 

Oh. the west winds, the wild winds, a mad 

symphony 
That shouts of the smoke of the line camps to 

me; 
And out of my soul bursts a passionate cry, 
"Oh, I come, I come home, for thy bondman 

am I." 



[163] 



ON THE TRAIL OF 
YESTERDAY 



On the trail of yesterday, 
Retrospective fancies play; 
In the camp Hre burning low, 
Strange, wild pictures come and go. 



[167] 



ON THE TRAIL OF 
YESTERDAY 



ONJINJINTKA 

(An Indian Legend) 

Camped in the foot hills, their fires bright 
With spears of flame flung back the night, 
And there we smoked, the chief and I, 
And hearkened to the soft wind sigh, 
The distant music of the mountain stream. 
And all the voices that e'er seem, 
Half-hushed to whispers in the trees, 
To speak of night's vast mysteries. 
The old Sioux spoke and his eyes grew dim, 
As Mem'ry kissed her hand to him. 
And lured him on to tell the tale. 
Of why the lonesome pine trees wail, 
Thro' long, long nights of murk and dread, 
Like hopeless spirits of the dead. 

Onjinjintka, the Rose, lovelier than the flower, 
She came and blossomed in our hearts ; 
We loved her as a child of the sunlight, 
Smiles of the dawn rested in her eyes, 
The spirit of the Good Spirit abided with her 

spirit, 
Thus we loved Onjinjintka, the Rose. 
[169] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



Many were the warriors who loved her, 
Many were the gifts laid at her father's feet; 
But to the warriors her father spoke : 
"She is my best beloved, the flower of my 

heart, 
Her way is my way." 
Calm as the mountain lake was the heart of 

the Rose — 
The heart of Onjinjintka, the Rose. 

From the land of the rising sun a white man 

came, 
Yellow as gold was his hair and he laughed 
After the manner of his tribe — 
Face to face met they — face to face, 
Onjinjintka, the Rose and he of the yellow hair, 
The maid seeing no evil in his smile. 

For he would pluck the wild rose and when its 

fragrance died, 
Fling it down in the dust of forgetfulness. 
Onjinjintka basked in his smile, 
It was as the south wind to her soul. 
The white man abided with us to the Spirit 

Hills. 
Happy then was Onjinjintka, the Rose. 

Here at the foot of the Spirit Hills we made 

our camp, 
Going no farther, being fearful of the anger of 

the gods. 



[170] 



On the Trail of Yesterday 



Broken then was the heart of Onjinjintka — 
Withered as the leaf in autumn was the spirit 

of Onjinjintka, the Rose. 
At the dawn she awoke and found him not, 
Found not her white lover by her side, 
In the dark night he had departed. 

His trail led to a great trail — 

A great trail made by many wagons; 

For he had found his kind. 

The white man had found his people. 

For him Onjinjintka wailed as for the dead, 

Broken was the heart of Onjinjintka, the Rose. 

We heard her wailing in the darkness, 
Wailing for her love in the darkness. 
She wandered afar into the Spirit Hills. 
Her father called her and she answered not. 
We waited and she returned not, 
Empty were our hearts without Onjinjintka, 
the Rose. 

Hearken, the wind comes through the pines. 
It is the voice of her — 

It is the voice of her wailing in the darkness, 
Wailing for him who loved her not. 
We shiver as we listen to her wailing. 
Empty are our hearts without Onjinjintka, the 
Rose. 



[171] 



Coivhov Lyrics 



THE GUN FIGHT 

Stern his eye and ever watchful, 

Stranger to deceit or lie, 
And his creed thus plain and simple : 

For the right 'tis good to die. 
Woman's honor, clean and spotless. 

All unsoiled its garments white. 
Rested safe beneath his banner. 

Tender, loyal, western knight. 

Dark his foe and ever taunting, 

Mocking lips and evil eyes, 
With a heart as foul as Hades, 

With a hate that never dies. 
Words of cunning, cruel malice — 

Lo, at last he speaks a name, 
That in all the border country, 

Stands for woman's scarlet shame. 

Swift the flash of true hand backward, 

Then a bitter voice of doom ; 
And a soul all hope-forsaken, 

Fleeing thro' the outer gloom. 
Then the silence and the struggle 

Of the shape upon the sod. 
And a choking, husky whisper 

Of the awful name of God. 

[172] 



On the Trail of Yesterday 



That you loved her, be it spoken, 

Loved her long and loved her true, 
And as faith in the eternal, 

So she loved and trusted you. 
Know the truth, Oh, knightly brother, 

In the lean land of the sage, 
Justified, the word is written, 

On a white and sacred page. 



[173] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



LOVE AND DEATH 

(A Cozvboy's Thoughts) 

I'm camping here alone tonight, 

And thoughts like ghosts all sad and pale, 
Rise up to haunt my heart and drift 

Along the twisting mem'ry trail. 
Her sweet, sad smile, her tender voice, 

The softness of her cheek and hand. 
But she is gone, Oh, tell me where! 

What trail leads out into that land? 

She used to say that every star, 

Was some dear soul whose work was done, 
And in that peaceful range above, 

God night-herd stands on every one. 
My soul just cries but yet those stars, 

No look of love or longing wear — 
Oh, tell me, is there answer to 

That never-ending question, "Where?" 

And still the stars look coldly down, 

As cold and solemn as can be ; 
They never smile and her kind eyes, 

Forever held a smile for me. 
Up in the brakes a lone wolf howls, 

In long-drawn quavers mournfully; 
And then the silence and the stars. 

Make mock of wolf and mock of mc. 

[174] 



On the Trail of Yesterday 



THE WESTERN TRAIL 

(A Sioux Versioit) 

In the beginning the Great Spirit gave the 

prairie rare gifts, 
The mirage, the warm rains of springtime, the 

grasses and the flowers, 
The buffalo, the village by the river and the 

children basking in the sun. 
Happy were we then, oh, my people! 
But from the East a white warrior came and 

with a mighty arrow wounded the 

prairie; 
And the grasses and the flowers withered 

and the herds and the villages melted 

away — 
Melted, oh, my people! as the snow melts 

before the Chinook. 
In time the wound healed, but a scar was 

left — a long, white scar across the 

prairie's breast. 



[175] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



TO A BUFFALO SKULL 

On the sable wall doth thy great skull gleam, 

A regal ornament; 
Speak thou, thro' the gloom of this dusky 
room, 

Once lord of a continent. 

Yea, once I was lord of a countless host, 

But gone is my kingly sway, 
And never again will I head the herd, 

In the spring when the young calves play. 
All bleached with the merciless sun and rain 

Of many and many a day, 
I'm all that is left to tell the sad tale 

How the black lines passed this way. 



[176] 



On the Trail of Yesterday 



AT THE GRAVE OF A BORDER CAVA- 
LIER 

No more ring the shouts and the boisterous 
laughter, 
That told of the joy of the bold cavalier; 
Wlio lived out his time, caring naught for 
Hereafter, 
Counting death as a favor and not as a fear. 

Gone, gone are the days and the nights of dis- 
order, 
When none but the coward from glory was 
barred. 
Now the grass decks thy grave, wild son of the 
border, 
And vandals thy headstone have mockingly 
marred. 



[177] 



Cozvbov Lyrics 



THE DOOM OF THE WEAK 

Gaunt mother, the spring is not yet come, 
When grasses wave 'neath wild plum bloom ; 

When Nature smiles upon the range, 
Forgetful of the days of doom. 

And that pathetic, awkward calf, 
Of all that lives to you n:\ost dear, 

Cannot long lean upon your strength. 
Or feel your presence warm and near. 

The gray wolf's famished and his jaws 
Hang slavering with mad desire, 

Yet still your bold and dauntless front, 
His caution and his fear inspire. 

No fear of self, you rise supreme 
To all that's true, to all that's good 

In Nature's realm, since none surpass 
The sacrifice of motherhood. 

You lurch, and then the wolf's quick leap, 
The blood's red gush upon the snow — 

And one last effort to protect 

The offspring that you cherished so. 

In vain you strive to reach, protect, 
Defender bold and mother meek; 

Yours is the doom all merciless — 
The age-old doom of all the weak. 

[178] 



On the Trail of Yesterday 



THE NIGHT STA^IPEDE 

The thunder rolled like a thousand drums, 

And the sky was torn in twain 
With a livid wound, and then the hiss 

Of the madly lashing rain. 

The herd swept on down the trail of doom, 

As a flare of yellow light 
For a heart-beat shone on him who rode 

By the side of Death that night. 

Oh, the clashing horns and grinding hooves, 

And the flick of pistol flame, 
And he who headed that wild stampede, 

Lone hero without a name ! 

Oh, the awful rush of plunging shapes, 

When the last, last stumble came. 
And the crash to earth of horse and man — 

Death won, aye, he won the game, 



179] 



Cozi'boy Lyrics 



THE CIRCLE 

Yesterday a cave-man spoke, 

This land is old, this land is old; 
Thus wail the voices in the smoke, 

This land is old. 

Yesterday a red man cried, 

This land is old, this land is old ; 
I pass the haunts where cave-men died. 

This land is old. 

Yesterday a white man said, 

This land is old, this land is old; 

Behold this flinty arrow-head, 
This land is old. 

Yesterday a good man sighed. 

This land is old, this land is old; 

My city's pride a grave doth hide, 
This land is old. 

Yesterday a builder sang, 

This land is old, this land is old ; 
From narrow trails my wide streets sprang. 

This land is old. 

Yesterday a savage cried, 

This land is old, this land is old ; 
What paths are these, grass-dimmed and wide? 

This land is old. 

[180] 



On the Trail of Yesterday 



IN PASSING 

You waved a slim brown hand to me 
With a grace that proved devotion 

To the subtile art, Oh, sailor bold, 
Across a grassy ocean. 

You drifted by with easy lope, 
Your body weaved with the motion 

Of your bronco-ship, staunch bark to ride 
Across a grassy ocean. 



[181] 



Cowboy Lyrics 



DEAR LITTLE FIRE 

Dear little fire by the upland trail, 

Well fed with twigs of oak, 
By you I'll dream and soft caress 

Your tiny hands of smoke. 

Dear little friend of the lonely hours, 

I'll give you after-while, 
A dainty lunch of crumpled leaves 

And grass to make you smile. 

Oh, then you'll romp and chatter and plaj^ 
And laugh with quaint delight, 

And throw warm kisses at the sad 
And solemn-looking night. 



[18-: 



hVn 



UuB 



